


Way Down We Go

by Steelbloom



Series: You Will Leave a Mark [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Denial of Feelings, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Memory Loss, Non-Chronological, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 08:21:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 34,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7707796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steelbloom/pseuds/Steelbloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going after Benny left the Courier with a new set of problems to deal with as she tries to make a future for herself and the Mojave. But past decisions and actions will continue to follow her.<br/>At the same time, a companion-turned-partner has slowly become more, but they are growing to be - what exactly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Soft But Estranged

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sequel to “No Place for No Hero”. If you haven’t read that, you probably should. :)  
> 4.28.17 - EDITED: just trimmed some of the fat. Hoping this reads better.

 

Dawn approached and the fluorescent brilliance of New Vegas would soon dim as daylight stretched over the wall encasing the city. The gaudy luminescence that was part and parcel of The Strip would be less of an eyesore as night receded and the casinos began powering down for the day.

All except for the Lucky 38.

Realizing it was pointless to keep the wattage at its highest setting at all hours, Mr. House didn't waste needlessly. He hadn't remained extremely wealthy for the past two and a half centuries by throwing money away unless he had the statistical certainty of a payoff. But Robert House had still wanted all who gazed upon New Vegas to know who had control of The Strip, and he made his position clear, leaving the lights of the Lucky 38 on - day and night - allowing it alone to remain at full splendor.

Looking out through the open doorway from the safety of Vault 21, Sarah Weintraub let out a quiet sigh as a pink hue edged over the sky. There was only one reason working graveyard at her hotel-cum-gift shop wasn't a complete drag of the clock and her spirit along with it. She spent a good chunk of those lonely hours looking out at the night sky, her back to the casinos. The bright, intrusive lights of the Lucky 38 left her with a headache most times. And while her current view of the sky wasn’t clear, the stars sometimes shone through and she was still utterly fascinated by their beauty.

She was still not able to step foot outside, however. On the rare occasions she'd been forced to leave her Vault, fear kept her focused on each step, eyes glued to her feet as she pressed each against the ground. Her attention needed to remain locked there or there was the chance that she would completely unravel. The unfounded paranoia constantly threatened her with visions of getting sucked up into the vastness of the wide-open outside of the vault she had grown up in.

She shuddered and crossed her arms over her torso protectively, stepping back from the open door. The thought never got easier, no matter how much time had passed since she had been forced by Mr. House to become part of the ‘surface’. After he ordered the majority of her vault be filled with concrete, she and her brother had fought to retain some of their home intact. But their world had been whittled down to only the topmost layer of the vault that was left untouched.

Momentarily lost in her gloomy thoughts, her posture snapped up when her eyes caught a figure heading towards the NCR Embassy across the road in the early morning light.

Sarah’s baby blues widened. There was something in the way the figure walked. The stride was long, each step purposeful and efficient, no energy wasted. There was a sense of wanderlust there, too. It was in the way the figure’s head swiveled and took in her surroundings as best she could, never staying in one spot long. It was a she; that was obvious from the height and the build. It was also in the long, dark braid Sarah recognized from afar, even though the clothes were different. The courier had stopped by before, stayed for weeks in her hotel at one point before leaving rather abruptly.

Sarah frowned, hesitating as the other woman paused outside the Embassy gates. She had always been confused by the young woman. She hadn't liked her, couldn't quite put her finger on the why. But exposed to the courier once again, she guessed it could be as simple as how they each earned their living. Traveling from one place to another and sleeping in the wide-open like a wild animal was something Sarah couldn’t even contemplate without hyperventilating.

She was tempted to just let her walk on, as troubled by her presence now as she had been the last time. But the courier owed her caps and didn't seem in any hurry to pay up.

There was also the small matter of Sarah’s missing lover. Benny hadn’t been around, hadn't swung by in the last couple of days, and given that the courier was the only reason Sarah had met Benny in the first place... Her sudden presence had something to do with Benny’s absence, she was sure of it.

“Courier Six!” she yelled across the broken street, giving in to her curiosity before the courier walked through the gates ahead. The muted noise wasn't unusual at this end of New Vegas with only Vault 21, her brother’s studio and the NCR Embassy as the points of interest. Vault 21 didn’t ooze the glitz and glamour the other casinos did but Sarah didn’t care - it was perfect as it was in her eyes.

Across the way, the woman turned. After a pause, she began walking towards the light spilling out of Vault 21, steps slower than the brisk pace exhibited earlier. It was then that Sarah noticed the robotic sphere emitting beeps floating near her head, its lights on and a whirring sound getting louder the closer they got.

The courier had definitely been odd when they’d first met but now…

“Hi, it’s good to see you again.” Sarah’s tone was cordial, upbringing taking precedence over her dislike. “I’m hoping you remember that you left behind -- oh my, what happened to you?”

It was rude; she was aware of it and if her mother were still alive, she would’ve cuffed her behind the ears for it as well. But Sarah's eyes were glued to the ugly scar that was on the courier’s temple as she finally came to the light. It was bright pink, the scar tissue raised and puckered with jagged edges that spread out. The ends of it traveled into her hairline and Sarah couldn’t imagine the pain the wound must’ve caused as gruesome as it looked on the woman’s sun-browned face.

“Occupational hazard,” the courier replied with a shrug, pulling her braid over one shoulder before her tone turned curious. “But you were saying...?”

Sarah tore her eyes from the scar and met dark blue eyes. But they remained blank as she studied Sarah in return. Her tone had been casual, almost friendly but there didn’t seem to be any recognition there. A stab of irritation lanced through her.

_And to think that I kept her abandoned crap safe all this time..._

Feeling slighted, she tried to bottle it up. It had been the right thing to do as a hostess, keeping the belongings of one of her patrons. But she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to charge for them. Her tone was less amicable this time. “I was going to ask if you were ready to pick up the stuff you left behind? If you remember, I said there'd be a fee and you paid for that first month, but weeks have passed and--”

“Whoa, wait a minute - I left something here?” The courier’s brows had risen and the robot beeped beside her. A small smile spread on her face as her gaze went from the robot to Sarah again, losing the distant look that had overcome her for a moment. “Of course I’ll pay the fee. And I’m sorry for the inconvenience. It truly must’ve slipped my mind.”

Sarah was a little mollified, the sheepish look the courier was giving her clearly showing some remorse for her forgetfulness. “Well, it’s good that I had some room in storage, otherwise I would have been forced to sell it.” Backing away from the front entrance into the interior, the courier and robot followed behind her. “Especially when more stuff arrived after you left.”

“More stuff?”

“Yeah, you got a package delivered here along with a letter." Sarah reached for her key ring and unlocked an unobtrusive door near the front desk. Inside was a closet full of vault suits, all of them in differing sizes and shades of blue. On the floor was a green duffel bag and next to it a small crate. A large, loopy scrawl of ‘Juniper-Courier Six c/o Vault 21, New Vegas Strip’ was written on the wooden surface in greasy black strokes. A letter was lying on top, ivory envelope sealed to the surface with wax.  

Sarah had been curious and had debated reading the letter for _weeks_. She hadn’t in the end but she promised herself she would when she gave up on waiting and finally sold the stuff. Maybe now she wouldn’t have to force it open. Maybe the courier would open it in front of her if her curiosity won out.

She studied the courier but the other woman’s face remained impassive, eyes glued on the items in the storage closet.

“… How much do I owe you?” she finally asked, not tearing her gaze away from her belongings.

“Uh, fifty caps should cover it. Oh, and maybe you could answer a question of mine?” Sarah’s tone had gone from slightly disappointed to shy so quickly it almost embarrassed her. Sharp blue eyes met baby blues and Sarah forced herself to ask the question, her face becoming pink. “Have you seen Benny?” She sounded as worried as she felt and tried to pass it off with a smile. “It's just that I usually see him during the week and I haven’t seen him since Tuesday… It’s not like him. I know you’re friends, he would send you messages while you were staying here…”

She hoped she didn’t sound desperate. But she didn’t let it stop her; this was probably the only way she would find out if Benny had made a run for it. Her uneasiness with leaving her childhood home, even to go out on a date had probably become too much for the Chairman. Not that she blamed him since it was always the reason her relationships didn’t last.

But she’d been hoping this one would, especially after he let slip that he was trying to get rid of House one night with too many bottles of the straight vodka he preferred…

“Can’t say that I have but if I do, would you like me to pass the word along?”

The courier was studying her with renewed curiosity and Sarah wished she wasn’t blushing so obviously. But she forced her embarrassment down, knowing that she wasn’t brave enough to venture out and look for him. She nodded at the courier silently.

“Alright, I’ll do that, uh…?” The courier trailed off uncertainly.

“Sarah.”

“Right,” the courier nodded before pointing her chin at the closet again. “Mind if I get my junk outta your way?” She reached into her satchel and pulled out a container of Mentats, opening it and starting to count out the rows of caps lined up inside.

“Oh, of course.” Sarah took the caps she was handed and backed up as the other woman bent to pick up the envelope, breaking the wax and tearing it off the crate. She was in full view as the courier pulled out the letter inside. Or what Sarah assumed was the letter, the paper was folded to resemble a…

“Is that a… what is that?” Sarah could almost name it, some of the books from the vault library had pictures of them but the word was eluding her.

“... It’s a horse,” the courier clarified, her tone awed. She held it up to study the careful folds, handwriting on portions of the paper, a rapt look on her face.

Sarah recognized it too, her memory of a zoology book coming back. “That’s right! Who’s it from?” Her mother would have boxed her for her nosiness too. Sarah was sure of it.

But the courier didn’t answer and her gaze had that faraway look again. She carefully put the paper horse in its envelope and slipped it into her duster pocket, kneeling down to loop the duffel bag over a shoulder and grab hold of the small wooden box. Bracing herself on bent legs, she stood up again, grunting with the effort. She re-balanced her stance before she turned to look at Sarah, a sincere look in her eye. “Thanks for keeping my things, Sarah. You have no idea how much you’ve changed my life today.”

Sarah frowned in confusion at the comment but returned the kindness, her manners still honed. “I should thank you as well. If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have met Benny.”

At that, the courier, winced, expression becoming apologetic. She looked at Sarah for a long moment and Sarah had to wonder again what the woman could be thinking. Her tone was pensive when she finally spoke. “I don’t think we ever realize how much we affect other people’s lives, huh?”

It was Sarah’s turn to stare at her blankly but the courier didn’t wait for a response, turning without another word. With the robot trailing her, she left Sarah alone with her thoughts and many more questions that what she started with this morning.

She  _really_ didn’t like that courier, Sarah finally decided, walking away from the door to rearrange her gift shop, finding some calm in the familiarity of straightening the knick-knacks.


	2. Our Lives Rearranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EDITED 4.28.17. More fat trimmed and some of the prose rewritten.

_Jefa,_

_I told you I was going to pay you back for your involvement in my current state of unemployment. Not that I'm complaining or anything, don't misunderstand. It's not like I miss the daily commute or the endless meetings. And I really don't miss having to wait on someone else's schedule for my bathroom breaks. Having to ask for permission before taking a dump was degrading in ways I can't ever explain._

_But this old man is rambling. The point is that I have a lot more time to tinker with things. So I wanted to repay you._

_You busted up this beautiful piece of weaponry when you climbed up the mountain to break me out and I told you I'd fix it for you. Got you some good ammo for it, too. Don't use any of that surplus shit anymore or it'll jam up on you again. Stick to the quality stuff._

_You should come by and visit when you get some downtime. You know, if you aren't busy getting other people fired from their jobs out there. Not that I blame you if you are. Retirement is pretty nice._

… _Pretty boring, too._

_Caile mija. Come visit and bring me some new toys to mess with. You're good at finding the weirdest shit. Guess I should expect that from someone who spends her days wandering the Wasteland._

_Cuidate,_

_Raul Alfonso Tejada_

… … …

Brow quirking, Six repeated the signature on the bottom of the letter once more, trying out the name as she ran it over in her mind. There was something so familiar about it all, the title he used in the opening of the letter, the familiarity in Spanish… it was something just frustratingly out of reach.

" _Jefa…?_ "

 _Jefa_ was what she'd called her mom when she'd still been alive as a sign of respect. It loosely meant boss-lady and a light sense of relief touched her at the recognition, the faintest impression of it slipping down her spine.

The day Teo had first called her mom by that name tumbled into her brain in fragments. He'd been so withdrawn even then, and she remembered being sick at the idea that he hated living with her family, that he missed his own parents too much to ever want to remain away from them. And then he'd blurted that out in response to something her mom had asked and the sheer terror on his face... As if her mom could ever reject him… 

The anxiety Six had unwittingly been holding onto had loosened after that day. She realized that maybe she'd been wrong. That maybe he was just slower to trust than most.

 _Bitter-Root,_ she corrected mentally, remembering her cousin's new name. Finding him after ten years had been lucky; finding him after having her memory wiped from two bullets to the head was almost miraculous if she thought about it too deeply. The letter folded into the shape of a horse was something that tugged at her subconscious as well.

With a pensive frown, Six folded it up again, careful in keeping the creases in the right order. It took some attention to pull it loose completely and still remember how each piece was supposed to fold, but she liked the end effect of a paper horse so she took her time. Once it was back the way she received it, she placed it on the nightstand of her bedroom at the Lucky 38 next to the letter from Kenny Weathers. She then turned her attention to the open crate on her bed.

Inside, carefully wrapped in a smooth square of cloth was a silvery magnum revolver. It was cushioned between two slightly burnt, stained oven mitts resting atop boxes of ammo. She picked it up gingerly, studying the make. It was really beautiful, a song coming to mind as she admired the embroidery etched on the exterior. The grip was pearlescent and gleamed dully in the light, the pattern on the metal carved neatly from barrel to frame, even covering the cylinder. She tested the heft of it in her hand, liking the weight and curious about what the recoil would be.

Though she couldn't remember her acquaintance, she was excited to show off Maria nonetheless. If he admired the magnum, the nine-millimeter would be something he could appreciate. But a stray thought dampened it, of whether she'd gotten the mysterious magnum similarly to how she'd acquired Maria - by stealing it to shoot the previous owner with it.

She brushed it off, punching in the coordinates from the sent stamp on the package into her Pip-boy. Raul's location wasn't far from her once her map was updated.

"Wanna make a detour, ED-E? Maybe get some new memories? Hopefully, they're good ones since I'm going to need all the friends I can get..."

At his answering beep, Six loaded and holstered her new weapon before transferring ammo from the crate into her satchel.

It seemed her meeting with the NCR would have to wait for another day. She emptied the duffel and found nothing interesting there except for some undergarments. They looked to be in better shape than what she had packed already so she swapped what she could before throwing everything else back in.

In her haste, her nail caught on a ragged edge inside the bag and she cursed as it cut into the tender area where skin met nail bed. Pulling her hand out, she bit down on the nail, the pressure easing the annoying pain while she reached with her other hand inside. She found a hidden pocket and in it a few folded NCR bills that she quickly pocketed, her irritated finger forgotten.

"Think I did the same thing to my other bag?" she wondered aloud in ED-E's direction. She searched in the leather satchel she had been buried with and felt through the inside seams. Feeling something thin and of potential NCR worth, she reached a finger through the thin rip in the material and pulled out a bent and faded photograph from her childhood.

She stilled, caught in surprise as she studied it. It was her family; her mother, her sister and Teo standing with a couple of fenced Brahmin in the background. This was the farm from her memory, she was sure of it as she took in the foothills that were a background to the small family. Her eyes traveled over her cousin, the frowning boy in the picture who didn't look as scary as he probably thought he did. _Bitter-Root_ , she affirmed with a smile as her eyes hungrily ate up details of a past she was missing.

Six looked more like their mother than her younger sister did. They shared the same dark hair and many of the same features. Her sister had a head of chestnut hair, but she had their mother's deep, dark eyes. Six could only guess if her own blue eyes came from her father, if her sister's hair had been his, too.

She put the picture back in her satchel before she plucked the folded horse from the nightstand along with the other letter and stashed them in the hidden pocket as well. She didn't remain in one place for long and with a big chunk of her past still a mystery, she would need all the memories she could recover.

Slightly nauseous as she remembered the last time she had recovered some of her past, she walked out of her suite to meet what she hoped was a friendly and recognizable face.

 

* * *

 

The wind was blistering and every bit of exposed skin was liable to sting from the searing nip of it alone. Dawn had brought with it a bright, sweltering sun and a gust that had grown steadily in the early hours. Boone had covered the lower half of his face with a scarf but the atmosphere was dry enough that even it wasn’t enough protection.

About the only good that came from it was that it prevented the two men from suffering through awkward small talk. They were making good time off the main road on the smaller track southward and Boone watched Arcade's back from a small distance, his rifle out and his gaze wandering and alert. The doctor had pulled a bandana over his mouth after sand began pelting them early in the day. The courier's straw hat had been on his head since he’d found it while digging in his pack for water. Six had thrown it in there the day before with a note.

' _So you don't freckle,'_ was all it said, Arcade reading it aloud in bemusement. Boone could understand what she meant, though. The doctor didn't look like he was used to being on the road for extended periods, and not just by his pale coloring.

A couple of hours into it, the wind receded. The heat didn’t get any better, however, the day remaining as arid as before.

He figured the doctor had the right idea by waiting to take his piss break until they reached the West Pump Station. When the doctor had brought up the need to relieve himself, Boone had pointed his rifle towards a broken portion of brick and mortar near the roadside. It was standing high enough to protect any sensibilities he might have wanted to protect, but Arcade had merely glanced where he was pointing before frowning and shaking his head.

Being near water, there was an immediate change in temperature. It was cooler, almost comfortable in the shade as he waited, a raven circling lazily overhead before landing near a barrel cactus a hundred meters away. The bird tore into the cactus fitfully, not quite tearing a chunk off and it flapped awkwardly for a few moments. When it finally succeeded, Boone continued following it out of the corner of his eye as it flew off over the roof of the building he was leaning on, glistening fruit in its beak.

He exhaled a lungful of smoke and crushed his cigarette out as he reached for the small container of fire ant nectar to smear a dab of it on his lower lip. They'd found a nest of the stuff while tracking down the Cassidy Caravans. It was good for when his skin got like this.

It had only been weeks since they'd found that hollowed-out barn, Six stuffing junk into her bag until he was sure the scrap metal inside would give them away whenever she moved. But he’d been wrong; she was a neat pack rat, reshuffling her items repeatedly. He never heard anything coming out of her bag, even when he started to suspect something was alive in it. They had found a Lakelurk nest and she had stolen an egg after eyeing it for a long while. He had warned her it was a risky meal. He had also made it clear that she should keep it away from him if she planned on hatching it, else it'd meet a swift end on the bottom of his boot. Luckily, nothing came of it so he'd forgotten about it.

But they had done a lot in a small amount of time, he supposed. Some proof of that was in his pack, the evidence Six had taken from the Van Graff's and Alice McLafferty's offices when she crept into them in the dead of night. She'd cracked safes and stolen documents showing the Silver Rush and Crimson Caravan were involved in a monopoly that had turned lethal. Cassidy Caravans had been one of the unfortunate casualties. Cass had asked Six to look into it and they had. There had just been no time to return the evidence to her.

Now, he would hand it to Cass so she'd have the proof she needed. Then he needed to get her to return with him so they could head back to the Lucky 38. If all went well, Six would meet them there soon after.

A familiar weight settled in his stomach and his jaw clenched. He pushed it further down, not appreciating the apprehension that was growing when he brooded on the courier and her plan.

Taking a breath, he reached for another cigarette as he continued waiting for Arcade. They still needed to make a stop at HELIOS One and from reports he remembered, the place was falling apart. It would be better to approach that problem with three people instead of two.

Pulling his cigarette pack from his pocket, he frowned at it. "Shit."

Arcade rounded the corner of the building just as Boone realized he had crushed the remaining half of the last cigarette under his boot. "What's the problem?"

The sniper frowned at his empty pack. "We might need to make a pit stop. Or kill some Fiends. Take your pick."

"Well, with those options and the sun being where it is now," the doctor replied, squinting at the sky, "I think the pit stop is probably a better idea. We should reach the Grub n' Gulp for an early lunch, considering breakfast was a rushed coffee and some fruit I had earlier."

They began walking before Boone reached into his pack. "We don't stop for lunch. That's what the jerky's for."

He handed him a packet of it, the smell pungent and Arcade looked at it dubiously. "Gecko?"

"Bighorner. There's a place near Novac."

The doctor's face cleared as he smiled. "Novac? My adoptive mother lives there."

Boone grunted, non-committal as ever as he scanned the road. He then nearly froze as a thought occurred to him.

"She own the motel?"

"No, no," the taller man responded with a shake of his head. "I can't see her doing anything of the sort. She's a retired pilot."

Boone’s shoulders relaxed. "Daisy Whitman? No shit."

"Yes. Do you know her?"

Boone gave it careful thought, trying to find the right words to describe who Daisy Whitman was in his mind now, since his incident with bandages on his arms, his wrists.

He finally settled on, "... She's one of the good ones."

The doctor quirked a brow at him but surprisingly didn't take the conversation further. Boone was glad, letting him take the lead once again as he trailed behind. His attention remained on the road.

Once the sun was an hour past noon, they paused as he dug into his pack for his own road lunch and felt the crush of plastic. He pulled out a crumpled pack of cigarettes, only one missing. There was no note. The missing cigarette could be her handiwork, though. He became certain of it once he found the Sunset Sarsaparilla she had stuffed in there as well.

Feeling a tug in his chest, he called out to the doctor, to have them turn south at the next fork, back in the direction towards the Mojave Outpost. The faster they got to where they needed to go, the faster they could come back to her.

He focused his attention on his surroundings, saving the sarsaparilla for later. His training kicked in and he pushed everything else from his mind to focus on the task at hand.

 

* * *

 

Brushing aside hair that had come loose from her braid for what felt like the hundredth time, Six studied the shack built into the ledge wall from the outside with narrowed eyes. Checking her Pip-boy again as a precaution, only one blip show up on her screen. ED-E beside her didn't give any warning signs either, so she approached, rapping her fist on the front door.

"Let me start by saying that if you're a Jehovah's Witness, please don't bother. My mama raised us Catholic, through and through. I also enjoy sinning, with the possibility of a last-minute confession," the voice continued as the door opened with the loud grating of metal against metal.

"Catholicism, _wow_ ," she began with a grin, feeling some recognition as she saw the ghoul on the other side. The Petro-Chico jumpsuit was the final piece fitting into a slot in her bulldozed memories.

The ghoul's eyes crinkled, a faint smile curving his mouth and his thin mustache. " _Chale Jefa_. You finally made it. It only took you what -  two months?"

"I told you not to call me that." It came out almost automatically; bits and pieces coming back to her and when his smile remained in place, it confirmed what she was remembering.

"Come in; let me get you a drink. Uh, your robot can come in, too." He shook his head as he studied it, chuckling. "I wasn't lying, boss. Where'd you find the eyebot? Been in any Enclave territory since I last saw you?"

"Primm," she answered, following him as he stepped aside, feeling completely safe and at ease. If Boone were here, he'd be pissed at how quick she was to step into someone else's home in the middle of the open desert.

But thinking of him only brought unnecessary confusion. She couldn't forget the last night they spent together. Or the last two, really. She couldn't stop the nerves in her belly, Cazador wings fluttering in there when she thought of either. She tried to only think of the deep calm sleeping with her body pressed against his had brought her. He had been receptive enough to give her that comfort before they parted. 

When she awoke, it didn't surprise her to find he and Arcade had already gone as they had all planned.

She couldn't rid her mind of him completely as she caught sight of a sniper rifle on the workbench. The pieces were lined up but not put together, probably in mid-clean. It was easily five feet from stock to muzzle break.

Raul returned from his beat-up fridge with two Sunset Sarsaparillas and he motioned for her to sit as he sank into the stool by his workbench. Finding nowhere else to follow suit, she waited for his nod of permission before she sank onto the only bed in the shack.

She studied him as she took a drink, debating how forthcoming she should be. But she was already inside, invited into his home and sitting on his bed, drinking something he had provided. He had shown her every courtesy and she knew she was under no threat here. So she instead asked another question that began nagging at her since she had first seen him. "Why does your nametag say _Miguel_?"

He blinked, tone deadpan when he answered. "Did you get shot in the head or something? Or do you like having the same conversations repeatedly? Not that I mind either way. I just want to know which one it is."

Six snorted into her drink and began coughing as the suds burned her sinuses. She was going to have to be forthcoming, she decided as he came over to thump her on the back.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Thoughts, comments, spell corrections are welcome.  
> It's one a.m. and I have work tomorrow. :)


	3. Somehow We’ll Feel The Same

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited: 5.1.17; grammar and sentence structure.

“Told you we should’ve left it.”

“ _Nonsense..._ I might need it.”

Raul smirked, watching her adjust the anti-materiel rifle on her back as they neared the 188 Trader Outpost. She hadn’t called it quits for hours already and he could tell she wasn’t used to carrying it anymore by the way her shoulders hung. “That thing is almost taller than you are.”

Six merely grunted in response, making a beeline for the arms merchant wearing the baseball cap and set of bandoleers near the rusted trailer. The courier could clearly see why she’d left this particular weapon behind with Raul before she headed out for her last delivery; it was hard to maneuver without a proper case. She hoped this woman had the one she needed otherwise lugging the weapon around was going to slow them down. The ghoul had been exaggerating but not by much. The butt of the rifle almost dragged as she neared the merchant.

_Almost_. She straightened her shoulders, muscles already sore. She hadn’t lost her hold on it so far and it was sheer stubbornness that was keeping it from touching the ground at this point. The weight caused a strain that would bother her for days until she grew used to it.

“How about you go catch up with ED-E while I handle some business,” she suggested, looking in the direction the eyebot had floated towards, unsure of what he found interesting under the overpass.

“Sure thing, boss. Just keep in mind that they’re not going to let you go in with any weapons where we’re headed.”

“That’s why you’re going to hold them for me while I go and come back,” she reminded him with a grin. He rolled his eyes, muttering about the state of his knees and being a pack Brahmin as he headed down the small incline before she turned to the arms merchant to begin haggling.

Twenty minutes and a lighter pack later, she headed down as well with a new rifle case and some additional ammo. She’d gotten rid of the majority of her junk, leaving her with the bare minimum of supplies.

“Wanna grab a drink?” she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a forearm, her hands filthy. She frowned as she came to a stop beside him, eyes wandering. “Hey, where’s ED-E?”

“He was just here, boss. This kid distracted me, though. What did you say your name was?”

“The Forecaster.”

“Catchy. And what are you selling? Fortunes?”

“I sell thoughts, sir. I can tell you about You, Here or Everywhere if I take off my medicine.”

“You mean that thing on your head?”

“Uh-huh.” The boy was sitting on a broken chair, his expression open even though his eyes seemed a little glazed over.

Six eyed the metal circlet on The Forecaster’s head skeptically, the sight of the screws attached to his skull nearly making her eye twitch. It was probably a stupid question, nothing about the contraption anywhere near the definition, but she asked it anyway. “Is it safe?”

“Not sure,” he confessed with a small shrug. He didn’t seem overly worried about it, a distant smile on his face as he watched her. She could almost feel her own right temple throb in empathy, a pain that was still all too familiar. “It beats going hungry, though.”

“Can’t argue with that, boss,” Raul said quietly, elbow nudging her. She glanced at him quickly, sensing the understanding there. “Boy’s gotta earn a living.”

She didn’t respond to that, instead taking in the disarray of junk that was behind him under the overpass. His makeshift bedding consisted of a couple of flattened cardboard boxes and a thin, frayed blanket bunched up near one end. Luckily the nights were warm already, spring practically nonexistent in the Mojave. But it made her wonder how long he’d been here, living under the bridge.  

She settled on the more pressing question, however, meeting the skinny kid’s dark eyes. “How long’s it been since you ate something?”

“Yesterday. There’s… someone that helps me out. But I don’t like being a charity case all the time.” His expression fell, the smile fading minutely. It was the most emotion he’d shown so far, other than the detached sort of acceptance he carried himself with. When he met her eyes again, his look was determined. “I can’t keep relying on her to feed me.”

Not liking the circumstances, Six finally nodded. “Alright then; one hundred caps. But you gotta eat something first. I don’t want you distracted by hunger when you tell Raul his fortune.”

“I’d rather keep that door firmly closed, _jefa,_ ” Raul protested, dodging her sharp elbow at the nickname as they all headed up the incline towards the Kerr’s above the overpass.

The sun was just setting but the 188 Trading Post was surprisingly empty, Michelle Kerr wiping the bar attached to her stall halfheartedly as the radio played quietly in the background.

She brightened as she saw them approach. “Hey, folks. What can I get for you?”

Six finally set the rifle down to stand next to her before she and Raul clambered onto mismatched stools at the counter, the ghoul letting out a contented sigh as he sat. She craned her neck around once she was seated, wondering about ED-E’s whereabouts before she turned to Michelle, “Beer for us and whatever the kid wants.”

“Same for me, Miss Kerr.”

“I didn’t say dinner _and_ drinks, kid,” the courier protested, but she was amused. “Order some food, will ya?”

Raul let out a small huff of laughter as the grimy kid smiled winningly at her and ordered a Salisbury steak. Michelle turned to get their order and Six stood on the rungs, still trying to find the eyebot as The Forecaster climbed onto the stool next to her. But he must have miscalculated somewhere because he lost his footing and slipped, tipping his stool forward and careening face-first into the courier’s chest--

“Oomph!”

\--before she fell back, both of them landing in a heap on the hard, dusty ground.

Raul snickered, watching the dust rise and thanking his quick reflexes as he looked down at them. Six was crushed under the boy’s weight and let out a groan when Michelle returned with two beers and a Nuka Cola, asking if they were okay.

Someone else joined in Raul’s laughter, a warm sound that caught The Forecaster’s attention. The boy straightened as quickly as he could, his eyes flying to the woman behind them. The newcomer was dressed in drab colors, her hood pulled up but her eyes and smile bright as she continued chuckling.  

Six remained forgotten below him as The Forecaster reddened a little. “Hi, Veronica.”

“Hey, didn’t I talk to you about being a gentleman on the first date? You can't be all handsy. You went straight for second base there and that is _not_ how lasting relationships begin.”  Her dark eyes were amused as he finally climbed off the courier, apologizing hurriedly. “Although, I’ll give you points for knowing what you wanted and going for it.”

Six waved the boy away, sitting up with a hand to her chest where he’d headbutted her, her back protesting the rough landing. Her whole body was going to be sore tomorrow at the rate she was going. She took Raul’s hand when he finally offered it and huffed at his continued mirth before she noticed ED-E in the periphery.

He floated nearby, beeping a question in her direction and she nodded at him in reassurance as she dusted herself off.

“You travel in with a strange group, don't you?” the young woman observed, patting the eyebot in a friendly manner as she studied the courier and the ghoul with interest. Her eyes eventually focused on Six again. “I noticed it last time you were here, with that grumpy NCR soldier. Can anyone join this circus?”

Six returned her curious look while ED-E beeped at her again. She then tried not to look too surprised at what he told her; ED-E’s new friend was apparently Brotherhood.

The woman was sharp, however.

“What’s your eyebot telling you?” Veronica asked, a knowing smile on her pretty face.

“He’s saying it’s dinner time. Wanna join us?”

“Ah, sure.” She held out a gauntlet covered hand and the courier took it gingerly and shook. “Name’s Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground. Don't mind my little troll-under-the-bridge here - he wasn't going to eat you.”

The Forecaster laughed as he came to stand next to Veronica and the sound was so welcome, it put Six at ease. “Courier Six. This is Raul and that charming little bot over there is ED-E.”

“ _Jefa_ , you wound me - I can be charming, too, I just don't keep it on at all hours. Raul Alfonso Tejada, at your service _señorita_.” He took her hand as well and Veronica shook it.

“Are you a hired mercenary? A bodyguard or something?”

“For her? Did you see the rifle she’s trying not to get dwarfed under?” Raul shook his head. “If anyone’s protecting anyone, I'd say she’s doing it.”

Six muttered at that as they ordered some food and additional drinks and took it all to the picnic table near the middle of the small outpost. Preferring to sip her beer, she watched The Forecaster eat out of the corner of her eye as she dismantled the rifle piece by piece. She sat a small distance away from the others, needing the room, listening instead of participating and getting a feel for Veronica as she shot question after question at the ghoul.

Six was intrigued by her, that she hadn't treated her companion any differently. The Brotherhood of Steel were notorious for being isolationist by nature and they didn't take well to non-Brotherhood. They liked Mutants and ghouls even less, according to Yes Man's data files. But she needn't have worried. Veronica was looking at the trio with the same calculating focus she would probably bestow on a newly unearthed Pre-War kitchen appliance.

When Six finished oiling the rifle and got Raul’s approving nod, she put it away and went to wash her hands. By the time she returned and had finished wolfing down her own dinner, The Forecaster was asleep, head pillowed on folded arms on the table.

“He doesn't usually fall asleep near strangers,” Veronica finally murmured.

“Really? How does he sleep under that overpass then?” Six wondered, finally removing the cigarette she carried tucked behind her ear, taking great care as she lit it. She took a slow hit, making sure it didn't burn unevenly.

"He knows all the people here already. He's read all of them, has a feel for each of them. He knows he's safe here." Her brow quirked a little, a smile slowly appearing. "Even without reading you, he felt safe with you guys, though."

Six exhaled and put the cigarette out, waiting until it stopped smoking before tucking it back into place behind her ear, near her scar.  She wasn't sure what Veronica was expecting so she remained silent. But she noticed Veronica's hand clench, the dark metal of the power fist she wore muted in the light of the flaming trash can near them.

"You seem to be pretty capable. Mind if I tag along? Join your menagerie?"

"What are you doing out in the open, Veronica?” the courier asked, honestly baffled. “Why would you want to come with me and expose yourself further? Isn’t that against your rules?”

Veronica’s smile became a smirk, seemingly amused that she’ been caught. “Should I even ask what you think of the Brotherhood of Steel?”  

“I know hiding is not going to get them anywhere.”

Next to her, Raul lit a cigarette, happy to remain a spectator.

The fist remained clenched and Veronica’s gaze sharpened, the curve of her lips not wavering. Her look was assessing but she remained silent, not voicing an opinion. She instead answered the original question. “I want to see more of the world. I want to study other people in other situations, see how they do it on a day by day basis.”

“Even if that road takes us to Legion territory?” Six asked. Veronica’s answer would decide things.

The Brotherhood girl’s eyebrows rose at this, caught in surprise. “Whoa, I wasn’t expecting that. Didn’t take you for the type that’s into slave collars and _that_ kind of pain. Huh.”

“I have a free pass to meet with Caesar and I’m taking it. I need to find out why he wants to meet with me.” She didn’t tell her about the Platinum Chip or House. It would all come out at some point, but not yet. She needed to find out if Veronica would be her way into Hidden Valley and a meeting with the Brotherhood Elder before that.

But Veronica looked skeptical. “He might be waving a white flag but that doesn't mean anything once you're in his house. He could be luring you directly towards a crucifixion. I’m not sure if you’ve listened to the radio, but everyone's heard about what you did at Cottonwood Cove.”

“Jesus Christ, _jefa_ that was you?” the ghoul groaned, finally joining their conversation. “Don’t you think that might be a deciding factor on whether you make it back alive from this expedition?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, her gaze still on Veronica. “I need to find out. Do you still want to come with us?”

Veronica sized them up again and she finally nodded, her tone less certain this time. “Yes. I’m not sure how well this will turn out, but what the hell. Life’s short and who knows what we might find out there.”

“A lot of fucking trouble, I bet,” Raul muttered, flicking ash off his cigarette. He sighed in defeat as the courier welcomed Veronica into the fold.

 

* * *

 

If Veronica had seemed worried for a moment there, her uncertainty faded as she traveled with them towards Cottonwood Cove, the very place that had gotten the courier on Veronica’s radar to begin with. It took a couple of more days of traveling and Veronica was a great distraction as they walked south through the 95. Veronica’s junk spotting talent was invaluable to the courier and she found a fellow hoarder and tinkering soul sister in the Brotherhood Scribe.

Veronica was _itching_ to get into ED-E’s interior but she hadn’t done it yet, hadn’t even brought it up to her and Six was grateful for that. There was a cardinal rule here, and the two women respected each other more when they each observed it. It made Six wonder if she got along with her own blood sister as well as this woman she'd only met for a couple of days.

But they all grew more tense as they neared Camp Searchlight to resupply and rest one last time. The radiation was already setting her Pip-boy off and she handed Veronica a few more packets of Rad-X and Rad-Away, wishing she had access to a radiation suit as Cottonwood Cove would be far worse.

“The Brotherhood has all this technology and it’s ordinary guys with knives and bullets that are taking over Nevada,” Veronica murmured as they lay in their bedrolls at the NCR outpost. The troops were out scouting, Astor leading them through the outskirts of the town. Six thought about what Veronica said, wondering what difference it would make if she focused her attention on getting the Brotherhood to see this instead of getting rid of them as House wanted.

Neither of them could sleep and they stared up at the sky, a green cloud of radiation seeping into everything. Six had been forced to silence her Pip-boy as the Geiger counter was clicking nonstop. Across from them, Raul’s bedroll was empty, the radiation enough to revitalize him. He was out there with ED-E, daring closer to Searchlight than she would have comfortably without more supplies on her.

She would be going into the belly of the beast by herself tomorrow. Six tried to ignore the tension she felt the more she thought on it. She focused on the Mark, tried to remind herself that it would get her through the trip. She listed her supplies in her head once again, to calm her nerves, thinking methodically. She would strap Stealthboys to each of her upper arms, under the sleeves, and pin her braid up using as many bobby pins as she could. The Mentats she’d take right before approaching the pier. She’d stuff a Stimpak in one boot and a canister of Jet in the other. The chances that she would get to sneak all of these items in were pretty damn low. But she had to try.

The Platinum Chip she would keep in the fold of the holster strapped to her chest, near her heart.

Her chest was bruised she noticed the following morning as she strapped up.

She thought of The Forecaster briefly, remembering his laugh, his determined look in those brief moments of lucidity. The kid’s parents had died and he was homeless, in danger of going hungry and on questionable medication. And he still hadn’t given in; not completely.

She looked at her new companions as they walked east and thought of the ones en-route towards the Mojave Outpost. None of them had given up either.

The courier strengthened her resolve, keeping them all in mind as they neared their destination.

There was no going back now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don’t remember if the Courier’s exploits at Cottonwood Cove are mentioned on the radio or not, but for the sake of the story, liberties were taken as they have been throughout.  
> The semester has begun so updates might be slower. Hopefully you'll continue reading. Even better would be that you're enjoying what you're reading. Feedback is appreciated. :)


	4. All Our Time Can’t Be Given Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: some sexual assault and violence.  
> Was listening to ‘Hey’ by The Pixies on a loop while writing the first part of this chapter.

_Craig,_

_If you're reading this then it means I'm not getting the chance to tell you in person. For that, I'm sorry. As your partner, I know pushing you away to do this alone is practically unforgivable. But I hope you can see it my way eventually._

_If I'm successful, House will have the weapon he wanted and it'll be used to drive the Legion out. First and foremost, find Yes Man. He's locked in a closet in an abandoned building in Freeside, near the east on the second floor. I've given ED-E the location, he can lead you there. I know it might not be ideal letting House call the shots, but if it helps defeat those slavers then my journey will not have been a waste. But if House ever becomes a detriment to the people of the Mojave, you'll have Yes Man. Do what you need to do. I trust your judgment._

_Also, use the rifle. It's about time I got you a gun in return and this one lets you punch through Legion helms easily - it'll be like shooting through a lakelurk egg. Keep your distance and do what you do best._

_I'm sure you can appreciate how difficult it is to put what I feel for you into words… You were the first person that had my back after I woke up with no past, the first who stood with me and followed me on the road. I don't think you'll ever know how much that's meant to me; someone with nothing. Just know that I wish I had been able to do more. For you. For us, maybe, had I been given the time._

_Just don't give up… not on yourself. You can do so much to help, don't doubt it. I'm a firm believer in second chances. It has to explain why I survived when medical opinion has said otherwise. Besides, one of us should live to see the Legion chased out of the Mojave._

_It's a lot to ask, I know. But it's all I have._

_Come out of this alive._

_\- Six_

… … …

The courier hesitated, unsure as she studied the letter. Scanning the contents once again with a careful eye, she knew it wasn't enough; not nearly. But maybe in death she could be honest with him. 

It was morbid. Yet she couldn't ignore the itch between her shoulder blades, the feeling of uneasiness that followed her since she'd woken in the predawn hours after a restless sleep in Searchlight. The Forecaster's words were on her mind as well, in a loop that kept replaying and she hadn't been able to shake them off on their trek to Cottonwood Cove or in the hours since they arrived.

The boy had insisted on earning the caps she'd pushed into his hands the morning before, after Veronica had spoken to him quietly and given him a hug goodbye. Both Raul and Six had chickened out on hearing their own 'thoughts' so she asked about 'Everywhere' instead.

_'Forecast: A rain of blood will flood the desert and not purify it.'_

There had been more to his prediction than that, of course; more words on the dire future of the Mojave. But it all boiled down to that sentence and she couldn't move past it, the Platinum Chip feeling warm on her chest; almost like a living thing. It was a gamble, what she was doing and where she was heading.

It made Six wonder if hearing her own prediction would really have been worse.

If she succeeded in getting House's task done, he would have the means to take complete and unquestionably control of New Vegas. He would probably close it off, alienating the NCR further. In turn, it might make the NCR realize they needed to back off from their conquest of The Strip and instead focus on the Dam. It was a big maybe, though. But she hoped that she was right on one count more than anything: that House would have to be more aggressive against the Legion once they finally routed at the Dam if he wanted to keep New Vegas running. Enslavement was not good for business, after all.

As much as she willed herself to remain unfazed, Six wanted to cover her bases. There was a big chance that she would not make it out of The Fort - she was aware of it. Strangely enough, the thought itself didn't make her think twice about heading there anyway. What made her hesitate was what she wouldn't be able to finish.

Having nothing else to her name, she decided to leave her weapons behind. She folded the sheet of paper up before addressing it to the NCR sniper. It went in the rifle case, folded into her 1st Recon beret to be delivered to the Lucky 38. The magnum she'd just gotten would remain with Raul. Maria she left him with instructions to be delivered to Bitter-Root along with the only picture that she had in her possession. Bitter-Root would have to deliver the bad news to her sister if he ever found her. She even wrote a short letter to Joana and folded it around her NCR bills, keeping it together with a rubber band.

Her satchel with all her collected junk and remaining caps she left to Veronica and The Forecaster. Arcade already had Sunny's hat. Goodbyes were being delivered all around.

Or, nearly - the only one she had nothing for was ED-E and it weighed on her. All she had left him with were instructions to lead Raul to the Lucky 38 and then to head to The Old Mormon Fort. She was hoping he could find the scientist that had reprogrammed Yes Man. Maybe she'd be able to help him.

Six pulled what remained of the cigarette from behind her ear, distracted by the water gleaming in the daylight. They were on the ledge overlooking the pier, far enough away from the radiation that they didn't need any chems. But she had them waiting in her pockets, ready to begin swallowing pills once she headed in.

Sitting on a scarred wooden bench, Veronica came to sit by her, returning from scouting with ED-E. Raul was cleaning his revolver, a cloth spread on the picnic table behind them.

"You messed this place up pretty bad," the scribe commented, reaching for a box of snack cakes and digging into it. The courier's satchel was on her shoulder already but Veronica seemed uneasy with it there, tugging at it on occasion.

Six lit the cigarette and took a calming drag as she waited for the sun to hang lower in the sky. She wanted to arrive at The Fort just after dark, when the stealthboys were most efficient. "That was the plan."

The courier took in the result of her handiwork from a distance, witnessing the destruction she had left behind. What had once been Cottonwood Cove Resort was devastated, the radiation levels high enough that the man at the pier was wearing a radiation suit. She saw him from her position and knew he probably saw them too, although with the angle of the sun it was hard to say. But he was the only Legionary present.

The dead bodies remained where they'd fallen, however. About the only sight that didn't make her feel too conflicted was of Canyon Runner's stilled body.

"Look boss, I know I'm here as a result of you doing some stupid shit and getting out of it alive," Raul began, not liking what she had asked of him, his eyes not leaving the parts in front of him. "But be careful."

All she could do was plan for contingencies and they all knew it. "Give me three days. If I'm not back in that time, you know what to do. ED-E will take you where you need to go."

ED-E beeped in protest but his tone was lower than usual.

When the cigarette was finally out, she crushed it and popped a couple of Rad-X. She counted the minutes it needed before it would take effect in her head as she checked her sidearm and hunting rifle and got a feel of her holdout weapons.

The sun was nearing the horizon when she finally gave a nod in the direction of her companions and began climbing down the ledge.

 

* * *

 

The ferry ride from Cottonwood to The Fort was about four hours long and it was a silent one. After the Cursor Lucullus made some derogatory comment on women's inferiority to men and their sole role as child bearers, conversation was pointless and could have ended with either one being pitched into the irradiated water if she wasn't careful.

Her silence continued when her rifle and sidearm were confiscated at the front gate, her duster turned inside out and the Rad-X and empty Mentat tin tossed into a bin at the entry gate with obvious disgust. She had the remaining Mentats in her mouth, melting slowly as she kept her mouth shut, even when the hands that ran over her body were rough, almost bruising.

The pants she was wearing were lined, the leather thick and reinforced. They covered the silenced 10 millimeter from view but not from hands that were groping her this deeply. When the main gate sentry ran his hands down her butt near her thighs and the weapon, she flinched exaggeratedly, knocking her butt and hip in the legionnaire's face where he knelt searching her from behind.

He landed on his ass and glared at her, standing up hurriedly. With an angry look in his eyes, he yanked her braid free painfully from its careful position. Bobby pins caught in her braid and other parts of her hair, tugging on her scalp as well, falling out freely in others. She clenched her teeth and wondered how many remained, feeling a few still poking her skin at odd angles. But at least her distraction had worked.

When the stimpak and jet were found in her boots, Six finally opened her mouth, her breath fresh and sweet, the citrus pleasant. She managed to convince the sentry that she had a heart condition and the remaining chems were needed if she was to speak to Caesar with any coherence.

It wasn't until all obvious weapons and chems were removed that the gatekeeper surprised her, rendering her speechless once again. "We will be taking the Platinum Chip as well, Courier."

She went cold as her mind began working out how Caesar could've known. She reached towards her chest slowly, unzipping her leather jacket as low as she dared and reaching in gently. She pulled it out carefully, not wanting to call their attention to her chest anymore than she had to, almost sweating at the thought of the knife there. She didn't dare act like she was ignorant, however. If they found it, they would search her again and find her other hidden weapon and the thought of having only her hands to defend herself left her feeling frightened in a way nothing else had thus far.

She handed it over, her demeanor remaining calm as she dropped it onto his open palm. But she felt her heart drop when he tugged her forward by her wrist, hand already reaching for her undershirt and beginning to tug down roughly. He bared one breast to the night air, to the catcalls of the others gathered and she felt a small stab of relief even as she felt horrified, that they focused on that when she could almost see the hilt of the knife if he pulled her shirt that much lower-

"That is enough. I will not have the great Caesar's guest be treated like a common slave upon arrival."

The hands at her chest stilled and Six pulled herself straight with a heavy scowl, trying to hide her relief at being let go as Vulpes Inculta approached them. His voice was what she recognized once again, his head bare of the canine headdress he'd worn in Nipton. He was in his Legion armor, not the suit he'd worn on the Strip and his cold stare didn't leave the sentry as she fixed her shirt. Even when the sentry backed away from her, the chip held in his outstretched hand, his gaze remained, an obvious challenge to whoever took it.

Six watched Vulpes take the chip and slip it into his belt before he turned the full power of his cutting eyes on her. She met his stare straight on, her eyes hard as she reached a hand down to tug her jacket zipper closed. She tried not to show the depths of her anger or how shaken she was by their actions so far.

"After you," he intoned, gesturing for her to take the lead into the camp and towards his dictator's tent. She left her duster behind, not wanting to hesitate any longer. The longer she remained here, the bigger chance she faced at a misstep and a bad outcome.

But she faltered again, when she saw the familiar checkered pattern, the recognition making her stomach sick as she stepped into Caesar's tent. The mongrel hadn't done this to her, even when his salivating maw had lingered near her outside the tent, too close to the gun at her thigh. She thanked her luck that it had been a while since she'd fired it, that the gunpowder was just a scent that permeated her entire being and not just the weapon there. But nothing got her as badly as the sight of Benny kneeling on the floor near his own personal guard, his face almost unrecognizable in its blood and bruises. Her heart sank for some reason and she realized later that her body knew what danger she was in way before her mind could process it.

She had no chance to talk to him, however, Vulpes leading her with a hand at her elbow towards the dictator. She felt his baleful glare follow her nonetheless.

But once she was standing in front of Caesar, her attention was on nothing else. "You're the courier who's caused so much trouble for my Legion, and yet you dare come before me. So tell me this, because I really want to know. I am feared - with good reason. But you - of all people - dare to come here and stand before me, the mighty Caesar. What were you thinking?"

She had decided to remain honest, knowing it was the best way to keep her story straight despite the road blocks she was now facing. "You guaranteed my safety. Your Frumentarii assured me of it."

"And you fell for that? Really? Because I'm going to have you killed now." The pit of Six's stomach filled with ice and it didn't thaw, even at Caesar's next words. "... Relax. I'm fucking with you. You do know why I wanted to meet you, right? A man nearly kills you, so you track him across the breadth of the Mojave? You arrive on the Strip and waltz into the Lucky 38 like someone left you a key under the doormat? You visit the Tops, and next thing you know, the head of the Chairmen is fleeing the Strip like a whimpering little pup? When you set your mind to something, you get results. I like that. The question is… are you ready to get started?"

"She sure knows how to hedge her bets, if that's what you're asking baldie."

It came from Benny and he was quickly silenced, a quick, sharp boot to the face that had him crumpling with a cry of pain, his nose spurting blood.

Six hesitated, caught in the snake's glare before she finally nodded, her voice sounding cold and sure. "What were you looking to start?"

 

* * *

 

It wasn't difficult, what he asked her to do, even with only her old 9 millimeter in hand as the weapon they allowed her to take into the bunker. She inserted the Platinum Chip into the console, crawled into the unlocked hatch and was in awe of the Securitrons she found buried there, waiting for House to command them due to her intervention.

No, the thought that consumed her after that was what Caesar had promised her. Benny's demise was in her hands, as unwelcome as the first time. Circumstances had forced his fate onto her once again and she struggled with it. She would be forced to kill him this time, against her wishes and it rubbed her in all the wrong ways.

She approached the tent once again with trepidation. Her talk with Caesar went smoothly enough and she would blame her absentminded attitude on Benny later as she approached the Chairman, his beaten face accusing, his limp arm making her burn with something close to guilt.

"Don't look at me like that, pussycat." He was scowling and she focused on that, on his rancor, the hate in his dark eyes. "I knew there would be hell to pay if I was found out."

"How the hell did you end up here?"

"You mean after you ratted me out to my men and they chased me out of The Strip?  The fox bastard found me real quick after that. Couldn't really defend myself with my arm the way it was, baby doll."

She didn't respond, instead focusing on what she needed to do. She needed his anger, something to cling to so she could kill him in cold blood.

"Fine, be a complete bitch if you want to be, Juniper. Just get off your high horse for two minutes and admit what we had was good for the brief time it lasted."

She was outraged, she couldn't hide it. "How is it that you are focusing on _that_ at this moment?" she hissed, disbelief coloring her tone as well. She was glad the Praetorian had let them be, walking a few feet away out of earshot but keeping them in sight.

He smirked at her, or as much as he could given his broken face. "I take pride in my work, doll. And I don't have much time left, so I'm taking my kicks where I can…"

She looked at him as she mapped the distance to the lake, to the boats hurriedly, her mind racing at the thought of the stealthboys she had. They lasted two minutes each. Her heart was thundering, a desperation rising in her as she fought to remain calm, the sweat beading on her forehead, her chest. She couldn't stop the feeling that her nerves were slowly overtaking her...

She remembered being in his arms, a slow dance in dim lights, feeling flattered that he even noticed her in her braid and simple clothing, looking nothing like Joana and her pretty, glamorous friends. She was a wastelander on the Strip, a farm girl under her Courier occupation. But he had noticed her, thanked her personally for helping Tommy Torini gather some talent, the Lonesome Drifter a welcome addition to the performers. She'd been lost in his eyes for a moment, the mischief there as he led her in a slow turn, pulling her closer still after she returned dizzily into his embrace.

He leaned in, his breath warming her face momentarily, waiting for her. And she had closed the distance finally, taking his invitation and meeting his lips with hers, hand fastening on his shirt.

She had stilled suddenly, surprised with her actions. But he had immediately reciprocated, his lips expertly taking hers, warming her so completely she forgot they were the only couple dancing, the others watching them as Tommy practiced his new number.

"Christ, Benny…"

She couldn't. She couldn't do it, and now she kind of had an idea why.

"Baby, you've gotta do it."

She frowned at him, blinking away anything other than the fury she felt at being put in this position, at what she was being forced to do without a choice. She reached a careful hand up and touched her upper arm before she straightened her posture and cleared her expression, turning to return to Caesar once again.

She felt their eyes on her, Vulpes and Benny and the other man, Lucius, but her eyes remained on Caesar. "I have made my decision. I wish to fight him in the arena."

There, maybe she could slip him a couple of stealthboys without a guard breathing down her neck.

But a different thought overtook her as well. A darker one.

There, if she was forced to, she could kill him if needed to. Self-defense was a powerful motivator.

Swallowing with difficulty, hands clenching, she waited. She felt some relief and allowed her shoulders to relax when Caesar finally agreed. But he had his stipulations.

"You will have your fight, Courier. But since your opponent is crippled in one arm, I decree that you shall be as well. Vulpes?"

Six had no time to prepare, was barely turning to look at Vulpes as the sharp, cutting weight of the machete blade bit into her right shoulder with enough force that she felt it down to her collar bone and shoulder blade and knew that they had been the ones to stop it.

She cried out as stars exploded behind her eyes at the pain, the sound unrecognizable to her. Her knees hit the ground with jarring force, left hand immediately flying to her wounded shoulder as she swayed and her body clenched in self-defense. The pain was a burning sensation in her shoulder but it was tingling at the same time, panic setting in momentarily. She felt her blood leaking out, the area slowly becoming cold with the adrenaline.

Caesar voiced her thoughts, his eyes eating her pain hungrily. "Time is running out, Courier. I suggest you kill him quickly."

She fought the panic that threatened to seize her as she was helped to her feet, Vulpes leading her to the Arena, a trail of blood following her and Benny.

"Remember who you are, Courier," Vulpes advised besides her.

She wasn't sure what he meant and hesitated to ask further as they handed her a machete and pushed her into the Arena, the darkness illuminated by a few torches. Legionaries began to gather, she noticed, her focus scattered.

But as Benny was led into the opposite opening with his own machete held in his left hand, his right arm still limp, her focus sharpened.

She got into a defensive stance and waited for him to make the first move.


	5. Carved You Like A Stone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence and more violence.

Boone could be extremely patient. All snipers had to have some aptitude for it and it was a skill he’d honed early on, something that had become invaluable in the military and his time after not re-enlisting.

But he felt the edges of that learned patience fraying bit by bit as Cass poked her finger into his chest once again, a scowl on her flushed face. She’d walked up to him as soon as he’d stepped into the bar that preceded the barracks, looking every bit as disgruntled as he felt. After a nearly sleepless night and the relentless pace he’d kept them on as soon as he’d been able to get the doctor up and walking, he wasn’t in the best of moods either.

“Where the fuck did you two disappear to?" The demand was followed by a sharp poke. "What? Just because I don’t have an NCR dick for you to suck, my fucking problem is pushed to the back burner?” Poke. “Where the hell is she, anyway?” Poke.

His own glare challenged hers, his shoulders tightening. “Watch it--”

“No, you watch it soldier boy! I’ve been stuck here for weeks already and the only reason I kept my ass parked in this godforsaken hellhole was because your girlfriend promised she would help out.” Dropping the offending hand, she inched closer, her frown deepening. With her face nearly touching his, he could see how wild her blue gaze looked, the restlessness there. Her voice was nearly a growl now. “But that was just a lotta empty words, huh?”

He exhaled a heavy breath through his nose in annoyance. She looked drunk enough that he would've backed up had Arcade not been behind him, stuck awkwardly in the doorway. Instead, Boone grabbed one of her arms, intending to talk her down as he slowly led her back into the barracks.

He should’ve known better, really. Everything about her was screaming stir crazy.

Hackles already on end, his hand on her had her jerking back far enough that he saw her hand fist before it flew at him. He ducked out of the way and heard the sickening crunch as her fist connected with either the door --

"Whad da _fuck_?!"

\-- or the doctor’s face.

"That is _it_ , Cassidy! Get the hell outta my bar! I’m done warning you!"

The shocked look she had aimed at Arcade turned sour as she whipped around to face the bartender. “Good riddance! I’m tired of drinking your watered-down swill anyway.”

And she pushed past him and Arcade, who was pinching his nose with the handkerchief as it dripped blood onto his lab coat.

Boone frowned at her back as she stomped out the door into the hazy afternoon heat. A cold drink was all he had been looking forward to, followed by the chance to get cleaned up once again. Maybe even a night without the new nightmare that robbed him of sleep last night. But he knew instinctively that the only way to get rid of the dream that had him waking up in a cold sweat was to get back to the Lucky 38 and within sighting distance of Six as quickly as possible.

With a muttered curse, he went after the merchant.

“You’re on your own,” Arcade called after him, complaining about a broken nose under his breath as the door shut behind him.

He found her nearby, climbing up the ramp towards Ranger Ghost’s perch on the roof slowly. He observed for a moment, seeing her wobble near the middle and remaining alert to make sure she didn’t topple over. The last thing he needed was her to break a leg, or worse, her neck. He knew Six liked her and even though he couldn’t quite see it, her task had been clear.

Once he saw her reach the roof safely, he climbed as well. He knew if he let her stew in her anger, it would be impossible to talk to her after. He’d have to play nice and talk to her now, still drunk and still angry.

His first peace offering was rejected; the disgusted look she threw at him when he offered her a cigarette was enough to have him not light up next to her. It didn’t stop Ghost from ambling over and bumming a couple off of him, though, her shift almost over and her chew nearly gone.

But Ghost wandered away to the other side of the roof after that, giving them some privacy. Both of them were facing what remained of Nipton in the distance as the radio crooned out some Sinatra in the background.

“Been starting up some trouble here,” he finally commented, deciding it was the appropriate place to start. Her head turned and she gave him a baleful look as he faced her, arms crossed, eyebrow raised.

Knowing the bartender had given her away, Cass seemed to think on her response, her eyes going from him to Ghost behind them before she finally rolled them and threw her arms up in defeat. “I’ll apologize to your blond friend when I see him, alright? I didn’t mean to bust --”

“Break,” he corrected.

“-- _break_ his nose,” she bit out, glaring once again. “But I’m not apologizing to you or the Courier. You guys let me down, you assholes.” She crossed her arms as well, mirroring his stance. Her face was still flushed and she shook her head, turning towards the view of the sun slowly setting in the distance. He wondered if he was even meant to hear what she said next as her tone went lower and held a twinge of sadness. “That caravan was all I had left.”

Reaching into his pack, he pulled out the files and notes held together by a binder clip, all of the Van Graff and Crimson Caravan evidence. He handed them to her as she looked on suspiciously. “When you’re ready to talk without hysterics, come find me. We head out tomorrow.”

He knew his comment annoyed her and felt a small sense of satisfaction as she huffed behind him. But the feeling quickly passed and he sought the familiar sound of target practice near the statues at the entrance of the Mojave Outpost. He was hoping the deafening sound of the gun shots would stop his mind from wandering to the helpless feeling that had haunted him in his sleep.

But it didn’t work. He dreamt that he hadn’t been able to find her, that he couldn’t track her no matter how many signs he found on the road. Just when he thought he was close, the trail was gone again and he was back at square one. He never got close enough. He had found Carla, knew with assurance that she was dead. He had made sure of it, hadn’t missed when it had counted the most. And as painful as that wound by itself had been there was a sense of finality in her death. It had only started scarring recently after he took Jeannie May's head.

But the thought of him never being able to find Six… It made his marrow freeze as it overtook him again. If something happened to her... Even now, they really had no idea who else was missing her out there, possibly lost forever if she kept to the road as she tended to. 

He finally lit his cigarette, trying to clear his head. He left the doctor and the merchant to their own devices, only returning to the bar after he had put out his fourth one.

 

* * *

 

Her shoulder was screaming in pain but Six blocked that out as well as she could as Benny stumble forward slowly. She wondered how badly they’d beaten him already because he definitely looked weaker.

And she would get weaker, too if she continued bleeding out the way she was.

As if reading her thoughts, Vulpes spoke up behind her. “Your hesitation will be your undoing.”

“Duly noted. Didn’t know you gave a shit, either way considering you’ve been so heavy handed in the possible outcome,” she called back, grip tightening on the machete and giving it an experimental swing. She gave it a couple more, trying to get used to the length and reach of the blade in her non-dominant hand.

“We have no issue or war against couriers as a general rule.”

“Not the feeling I’m getting at the moment,” she muttered, the pain from his blade preventing her from moving her right arm at all.

“What proof do you have otherwise? Did I not let you walk when we met in Nipton? Isn’t Caesar allowing you to have your prize, the way you asked for it? I could have easily watched you bleed there as opposed to here.”

“Lucky for me it’s not up to you, then. What about your master? Why is he letting this continue?”

Although she couldn’t see it, couldn’t look away from Benny’s approaching form, she felt his eyes burning holes into the back of her head. “He still has other plans for you, Courier.”

She had no time for further conversation, seeing the opening as Benny took his first swing at her. It was fast and he used the majority of his strength behind the swing because she easily made him lose his balance and he almost landed on his face in the dirt before catching himself at the last moment. Either he thought she wouldn’t be able to dodge him or he was being clumsy on purpose.

Or he was just hurt and desperate enough and thought killing her would get him out of this alive. But he had to know he was doomed no matter what, right?

She dodged another wild swing, this time nipping him on the arm. The slash cut through his suit into his arm, a line of red starting to stain the material. It gave him pause as he stared at it before he looked up at her.

“No hard feelings, kitten. It’s just life or death here,” he quipped before his stance changed, getting lower and more guarded.

Maybe he didn’t realize it, she thought as she followed suit, her own adrenaline spiking. Her bleeding shoulder became a distant thought as she swung first, going high and then low in an attempt to catch his wrist. Instead of blocking her move, he dodged and slipped around her, his own blade coming up behind her and slicing into her back cleanly.

She hissed in pain and had to bring her blade up almost immediately to block his downswing, the force almost knocking the blade out of her hand. But she held on even as he pressed down on her, gritting her teeth as the pressure finally forcing the blades to break apart, the tip of his catching her across the cheek near her ear and forcing her back.

She was breathing heavily as she circled him slowly.

He lunged at her suddenly, almost catching her off guard and she distantly heard the few gathered around watching cheer as she dove out of the way before he barreled into her, blade held before him at an angle meant to stab instead of slice. She rolled with her landing, out of instinct, the blade folding with her body, remembering how to do it properly after training with Boone for the time they had.

But she didn’t think of her shoulder and the pain had her body jerking violently as she landed right on it, her fall flat and jarring on her back.

She barely had time to take a breath before Benny loomed over her, eyes glittering. All of his tribal blood shone through.

“You lose, pussycat.” And he slid the blade of the machete down through her stomach.

She groaned in pain, face screwing up, the sound choked as she swallowed her panic thickly. She knew the pain was only a ghost of what it would soon be once her mind caught up with her. She didn’t tear her eyes from him, however, focusing all of her energy into her arm even as she felt her breathing become labored. It was now or never. Bleed to death or survive. She couldn't save him, he had made that clear for her.

The blade cleaved into his neck with a horrible squelching sound as it cut through tendon and muscle and veins before he tipped over, beginning to convulse as he bled out.

Her legs were caught under his but she couldn't look at him, shakily pulling the machete out and tossing it aside before sitting up as quickly as she was able, the bleeding becoming alarming. She needed to get the stimpak in her boot before the spectators reached her. Keeping a hand over her open stomach wound and reaching the stimpak with the other, she jammed the needle into her stomach right on top of the wound just as the first set of hands reached her, pulling her up roughly.

She tried not to cry out in pain, whimpering under her breath as the wound in her stomach knit up slowly, the bleeding slowing. The pain was still there and on her shoulder again as it was pulled.

The stimpak needle was knocked out before the full dosage took effect, Vulpes giving her another cold look as she was slowly brought before him.

“You didn’t disappoint. A fitting end for a Profligate such as he was. Such as all the gutter trash that are in the thrall of that sinful place.” He reached out and probed at her stomach, his fingers quick and sure as she winced in pain, the wound clearly not healed yet. “Despite your clear violation of our rules here, you made yourself well enough to meet with Caesar. I am glad you are not disappointing him.”

He turned and they led her towards his tent once again as she wondered how much longer her legs would keep her up. The stimpak had done nothing for her other wounds, her shoulder still being the main concern. She was still bleeding a lot and she had experienced all these signs before. She would collapse soon.

They brought her before Caesar more quickly than she anticipated, but by that time she was getting fuzzy around the edges, her head slowly pounding.

Caesar wanted her to kill House. That was his next task. She was too incoherent to know whether she agreed or not, but she figured she had because she heard him order his men to have her wound cauterized before she bled to death.

She felt herself being led away, was aware of the darkness outside and of the torch that followed her. A new tent, a soft bedroll, thinner than her usual one, but something other than the rough dirt of the arena as she was laid down on her stomach.

She was drifting in and out, coming back as she heard an argument above her, the haziness being kicked out of her literally, another boot connecting with her side once again.

There was a ringing in her ears as she curled in on herself, trying to breathe in. She struggled as hands pulled her body straight out of the fetal position and a weight settled on the backs of her thighs. A panic set in her like none before as she began bucking wildly underneath whoever was holding her down.

But she was weak already and two other hands held her down from her arms, her jacket cut apart and pulled off her body roughly. Her undershirt was torn away as well and she bucked harder but stopped when she felt the heat on her skin before a searing pain exploded on her shoulder, the smell of burning flesh and hair reaching her nostrils.

She screamed until she mercifully passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait but: 1. first round of exams are here and a lot of other social things came up that sucked up a lot of my free time, and 2. this chapter was hard to write. Like, really.


	6. Then Left Your Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Violence, mentions of attempted rape and more violence. Oh, and some angst.  
> Edited 12.31.16 - nothing major, just cleaned up the chapter so it flows better.

Awareness came gradually and although Juniper felt as slow and heavy-limbed as a drunk brahmin, the pain struck almost immediately. Her body was in a world of hurt and she wondered, fuzzily, why she was even awake. Her throat and sinuses felt raw and breathing was a sharp sting as she inhaled and exhaled.

Maybe she had come down with something really contagious and her jefa had forced ‘Sol out of the house because of it. Trying to open gritty eyes, she wished she had the energy to go look for them. She felt she was forgetting something important and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this sick. At least not since… not since...

Head pounding, she let her thoughts float freely as she tried to remember.

… Not since the fever that had left her bedridden for a week after her trek to the grave site, after leaving Hopeville for the last time.

But, no… that was later. Mama hadn’t been around for that and ‘Sol…

“‘Sol? … Marisol?” It was a croak, her throat dry and scratchy.

She heard a rustling before a dry, gentle palm rested on her forehead. “Shhh, you should go back to sleep if you can. I just finished stitching you up." The speaker paused, pressing a damp cloth onto equally damp skin. "You’re lucky I got to you before they noticed your weapons or the stealth boys... They hate free women here and they were pretty rough with you."

She didn’t recognize the woman’s voice and the words didn't do much to calm her. They brought the immediate past to mind and her breathing quickened as she remembered the machete in her stomach and Benny’s legs twitching against hers as his lifeblood spilled out onto the dirt. She’d been beaten and burned and _helpless_ as someone's boot came down on her back, over and over to put the fire out after it caught on her hair. She hadn't been able to catch her breath no matter how hard she tried, fading in and out of consciousness in between. The smoke in the tent, the smell of her burning flesh…

She gagged in reflex and realized she had begun shaking, the movement bringing the pain into sharp focus. It wasn’t just her shoulder - it stretched to her neck and down her shoulder blade and it hurt, dear god it _hurt_. She almost didn’t feel her stomach in comparison.

But once she began coughing - throat raw enough that it wasn't able to handle her dry, erratic breathing - she realized how wrong she’d been. Being run through with a machete with no Med-X to dull the pain was enough to knock her back again, tears escaping as she tried to control her body, to keep it still. She wondered if the stitches would hold as she failed.

Breathing raggedly, she was grateful when the woman lifted her head and brought a cup to her lips. She used a gentle hand and was careful as she lifted her, but the skin on her neck still stretched painfully and the blisters wept, the bandaging sticking to her skin.

Whatever the Legion allowed in the water made her lose consciousness a lot quicker than regaining it and she soon remembered nothing once again.

 

* * *

 

“And so she awakens…”

She stirred, recognizing the voice this time. Definitely male and it flowed over her smoothly, almost pleasantly even as it sent a shiver down her spine. She briefly wished for unconsciousness to return as her body complained about her functioning pain receptors.

“No use pretending, Courier. It’s time to get up now.”

Vulpes. She was still at the Fort, still in the Legion’s clutches.

Eyes blinking open, she tried to get her bearings. She was on her belly this time, on a bedroll resting on what she guessed was a table due to its unforgiving surface. She met the cool gaze of the leader of the Frumentarii near eye level as he sat in a nearby chair. It was dark in the tent but even in the shadows, she could tell his eyes missed no details. How long had he been sitting there with nothing to occupy him?

She hated that she flinched visibly when he lit a match, the sight of the flame making her insides clench and a panic suffuse her. He almost smirked as he stood and lit a gas lamp, putting the flame out.

“You burned me,” she accused, swallowing her dread, voice scratchy still.

“Your wound was cauterized, as Caesar ordered,” he corrected calmly, returning to his seat. The humor was gone from his features, a blank expression taking over. “The task was done by a very enthusiastic hand and the metal remained there longer than necessary. Some of your hair caught it as well and the flame spread.”

“Who put it out?” She remembered with clarity that someone had stomped on her and it infuriated her. Vulpes would answer the question, she knew. He enjoyed causing her pain and mind-fuckery seemed to be one of his favorite methods. She wouldn’t be surprised if he admitted he had been the one to do it.

A small furrow of his brow was what he gave her, however. “The man who let the flame get out of control and put his foot on you has been punished. If you want to see his crucifixion--”

“ _No_.” Her tone remained accusatory, feeble though it sounded. She was angry that they had taken it out of her hands already. “I was promised safe passage.”

“You are alive and I made sure they left your legs and feet alone." The small frown disappeared and he raised a brow, cold once again. "Is that not all a courier needs - or am I incorrect?”

“Fucking semantics,” she muttered, glaring.

“Caesar had not yet dismissed me when the men took you or it would not have happened the way it did, I assure you. But you must realize by now that many have not forgotten what you did to Cottonwood Cove.” His eyes told her he certainly hadn’t.

“And you must realize your word means shit to me now.” She could’ve laid it all at Caesar’s feet, but she didn’t as Vulpes was the one who'd delivered the mark and promised her transgressions had been forgiven. She wasn’t sure how he’d take the accusation, but she erred on the side of caution. Caesar was untouchable to him, to them.

He studied her with that hard, calculating gaze she was familiar with before he stood abruptly to help her sit up. “Time to move, Courier.”

She bit her lip hard enough to break the skin and barely had the energy to care that she was naked from the waist up except for bandages and gauze. Something was smeared on her upper back, on the burnt skin under the bandaging. If it had any numbing properties, she didn’t feel the effects. 

By the time she had dragged her legs over and was sitting up, she was close to blacking out again, sweat on her hairline. 

Vulpes helped her into a loose shirt, patched and threadbare, but better than the slave rags the other women wore before he handed over a cup of water. She sipped it slowly, tasting a hint of the herb again. The water was tainted but not as heavily as the last time. “Where are we going?”

He didn’t answer, placing a finger on the bottom of the cup and tipping the contents into her mouth, ignoring her sputtered protests. “I know of some of your feats, Courier. You are unpredictable like he was; chaotic. The Malpais Legate was dangerous, as you are proving to be.” His eyes narrowed as he continued forcing the drink down. “The mighty Caesar saw it fit to burn you - you should feel honored even if the extent was not the original intention. I believe this will temper you, remind you who the players are and what Caesar does to those who disappoint him.”

Her mind worked in overdrive, trying to assimilate it all. He must not know of her trip to Zion or the location of the former Malpais. But she forced thoughts of Joshua Graham out of mind because thoughts of him brought thoughts of Follows-Chalk. And she couldn’t remember Follows-Chalk without the guilt that followed.  

When she was finished, he handed her a rag to wipe herself, some of the water dribbling down her chin. She refused it, using her sleeve as she fought the urge to claw his eyes. She had to keep using her left hand, her wounds all on the right side and her arm still difficult to move. He had cut her, had bled her and in his absence, she had been burned and beaten and stomped on. It was easier to focus that hate on one person even as he helped her up, wrapping a loose arm around her waist and leading her out of the tent.  

It was dark outside, the moon's position indicating false dawn was approaching. But there was activity already, the camp still readying for war.

She wanted to pull away from his grip but feared that she would lose her footing without his help. The stimpak had helped staunch the bleeding and helped some of her insides recover and so had the stitching. But she had still been stabbed through the gut and walking was almost torture.

Sweat beaded on her forehead and neck and chest by the time they had walked the short distance away from the tent towards the middle of the camp near the arena. She tried to distract herself with her surroundings but it was difficult, her breathing once again getting ragged.

“How long was I out?” she rasped.

“Not long. You were victorious in the arena last night.”

So twenty-four hours tops. No wonder she felt as if she’d just taken a few rounds against an alpha Deathclaw. She still tasted the smoke.

“Where are we going?” she tried again.

He led her into another tent. A lone lantern lit the interior and there were a couple of cots on one end, a long table and chairs on the other. A slave woman dozed on one of them.

She came awake as they entered and her eyes widened as she took them both in, becoming alarmed as Vulpes addressed her.

“She is in your care, Siri. You will be responsible for her well-being while I am gone --”

“You’re leaving me here?!” As hate-filled as she felt towards him, the thought of being someone else’s responsibility in this place was unnerving. But he continued speaking over her.

“-- and if anything should happen to her, I will punish you personally.”

Whatever she felt was nothing compared to the petrified look the slave woman, Siri, gave Vulpes as he lowered her onto one of the mattresses. But Juniper couldn’t focus on her, her eyes glued on Vulpes as he loomed over her.

“I will return in a week’s time, Courier. By then you should be sufficiently healed to walk on your own so I can accompany you to New Vegas to finish your next task.”

"I will be dead by the time you return," she growled, trying to deter him. She wasn't lying, she knew the truth of it. 

“No, I don’t believe so.” He reached out and touched the scar on her temple before his hand traveled down to her shoulder where he’d cut her. She flinched, the wound still fresh. “You will come out of this stronger. Caesar has chosen you to as an example and he is teaching you a valuable lesson. You would be wise to learn from it.”

He turned and walked out of the tent, leaving a frightened slave woman to protect her from a camp full of vengeful men.

She looked at Siri with frank eyes. “I will die here, Siri. If I stay here, I know I will.”

And she lay back on the cot, not being able to find any joy in the fact that her memories had finally returned. Apparently, all it took was another near-death experience.

So far, they all seemed as bleak as the situation she currently found herself in.

 

* * *

 

It was Siri who had stitched her up and she was the one who continued treating her, a doctor in training in her old tribal home in New Mexico before the Legion had taken over and enslaved her people.

They spoke briefly every time Siri came in to change the dressings and the poultice on her burns, something with tatoes and honey mixed in with healing powder to help with the swelling and itchiness that would follow. But when Juniper asked her about the stealth boys and the weapons, urging her to reveal their whereabouts, Siri remained tight-lipped about them. Her eyes turned pleading as she looked at the courier until Juniper felt like tearing her own singed hair out in frustration. She was hoping against hope that they hadn't been confiscated but she couldn't really know where the woman had hidden them. Slaves had no privacy and if she was hiding them on her person, Juniper would need to learn how she'd done it.

"I can try to help you get out of here," Juniper urged, voice getting better but still whispering in the tent. She was putting them at risk already by even speaking about it.

“If I could just get across the river, I’d be free. Not that I’d try it - I’ve seen what happens when you get caught.” Siri's eyes were old, too old for the face that held them. 

Juniper frowned. “What are my chances of survival for the next few days? I don’t mean just surviving the animals out there, but with no antibiotics?”

She felt it on a portion of her shoulder, where the burn originated and was most concentrated. Or she couldn’t feel it, which was the frightening part. It was numb even though the area surrounding it hurt constantly, reminding her that her nerves were still intact in those areas. A portion of her was dead and possibly permanently damaged. Her safety was compromised, not just by not being able to defend herself properly. She also had the threat of infection, sepsis or internal hemorrhaging to contend with as lack of modern medicine became her possible death sentence.

But Siri remained silent and the courier grew desperate.

“What will Vulpes do to you if I don’t survive?” She needed to know. He killed and crucified indiscriminately and with no remorse. Would her death mean the death of Siri?

Siri’s face closed off and she left the tent.

Juniper didn’t feel any better. She was starting to feel worse and wondered if she would make it back before her companions left as the days slipped by.

 

* * *

 

A few nights later, she knew they were in trouble when she saw the two legionaries walk into the tent. It was a couple of hours past midnight, Juniper cranky from lack of sleep and frustrated with Siri altogether, even as she understood the woman’s fear. They were alone in the tent, there had been no fight in the arena that day and Siri had been busy enough trying to break the fever that had taken most of their energies that day.

The men came in the dark, not bothering with lamps, faceless shadows that stole in. They surrounded Siri while Juniper tried to sit up and she heard Siri cry out in fear at the rough awakening before she heard the struggle.

She stood no chance, they both didn’t. “Siri, where are they?!”

Siri struggled in the dark, a cry of pain escaping her as she was hit and the sound of tearing clothing spurring the courier into action.

“Siri!”

She rolled over and struggled to her feet, launching herself at one of them. They crashed onto the table and by some luck, his head hit the edge and he fell, disoriented with her on top. She was able to raise herself before bringing her left fist down on the back of his head with as much force as she could. It felt weak and ineffectual but it knocked him out and she felt momentarily triumphant as she pushed a wave of nausea down.

She heard a gurgle behind her and the sound of someone choking and feared the worst. “Siri?”

A body sank to the ground before Juniper felt a shaking hand land on her forearm.

“I’m here. Let’s go.”

Siri helped her to her feet and Juniper asked for the knife. When Siri handed her the silenced ten-millimeter instead, she used it to put a bullet through the man she had knocked down earlier, her grip awkward but effective. She flexed the fingers of her left hand around the gun as she held it, trying to familiarize herself with it there. 

“We’re not taking any chances,” Juniper informed her before Siri nodded and handed over two of the stealth boys. She kept her ear trained on the slit of the tent before finally pulling it open and peeking out, moonlight hitting them both suddenly.

”This goes against my Hippocratic Oath,” Siri said with a hollow laugh. But there was a determined glint in her eye as she wiped the blood off the knife on her ragged skirt. She looked shaken but lethal.

Juniper grinned. She smelled of sick and sweat, her hair still carried the stench of smoke and burnt pieces. She felt like death warmed over but she had to remain confident. “Did you even take it? I thought you never became a full-fledged doctor.”

Siri laughed softly as she put a supportive arm around the courier’s waist without being asked. Juniper ignored her pounding heartbeat as it echoed in her ears, hobbling along with Siri towards the rafts, using the cover of the stealth boys as they approached the firelight.

 

* * *

 

It was early morning on the fourth day when Raul finally saw movement on the water. ED-E came zooming from a distance, not slowing until he was at the edge of the pier, beeping erratically. He’d been scouting the perimeter and Veronica had guessed he was trying to throw his searching net farther and farther out to see if he sensed the courier elsewhere. She was late by a day and none of them had wanted to lose hope so they’d let him wander.

Raul straightened from the short boulder where he’d been smoking one of his rolled cigarettes while he kept watch. As it neared, he saw it was a raft but no one in a bright yellow radioactive suit was on the small vessel. He wasn’t sure if it was her, but when he heard the distinctive splash of a body hitting water followed by a worried cry, he decided he couldn't afford to find out. 

He turned to Veronica, tossing Maria and the Mysterious Magnum on the sand in front of her with an ordered “Cover me!” before he was running in, knee deep in the water before Veronica bothered asking if he knew how to swim.

The radiation in the water helped immensely; he didn’t want to think of how much harder it would’ve been pulling her out otherwise, a dead weight already sinking when he reached a hand out for her. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her out, hearing someone else calling out from behind him.

He didn’t look back even after he had fished her out to the shore, kneeling next to her as he felt for a pulse and when he found it, he touched her face gently.

“Mija? Mija, despierta…” he murmured softly, giving her a gentle shake.

Veronica kept her gun trained on Siri as the raft docked on the pier and the newly freed slave ran over, slowing when she saw the weapon pointed at her. She raised her hands in a gesture of peace, wet and covered in blood as she was. 

“Please, let me help her. She’s wounded and we need to get her out of those bandages, quickly, before infection sets in.”

Veronica hesitated as Raul checked her but the courier began coughing wetly and Raul tipped her sideways so she could vomit out the water. Leaning forward to offer Raul his magnum back, Veronica let him take over aiming at the woman while she helped the courier sit up.

“I’m sorry, I must have dozed off when you rolled off the raft… you kept having nightmares. You have to remove your shirt and the bandages. With second degree burns, it's crucial to keep them clean.”

Veronica glanced at Raul worriedly before she helped Six pull the soaked shirt off.

“What happened?” Raul finally asked, keeping his gaze firmly locked on the woman in front of him. She was soaked as well and with the rags she wore, it left nothing to the imagination. He nearly sighed, keeping his focus on the woman’s face.

Siri was busy looking at the courier before she glanced behind her. “We have to leave, quickly! If they find us…”

“We can’t go to Searchlight, they don’t have a doctor,” Veronica began in a hushed tone as she saw the extent of the damage. The courier’s body was bruised and discolored, a portion of her right shoulder burned and covered in wet bandages. When she pulled them off, she was horrified, the skin blistered and tattered and a deep, angry scorch mark sitting between neck and collarbone underneath the poultice that covered it. Her braid was frayed at the ends, shorter, and the hair brittle and bleached, resembling straw where it hadn’t completely burned off.  

“Veronica, in my satchel,” Juniper murmured, reaching out for it. She found the small radio quickly, right in the pocket she’d left it in before clicking it on, static reaching all their ears painfully. She asked the NCR for the nearest medic before Veronica snatched the radio from her, asking for backup and a stretcher.

Raul let Siri help out when Juniper vouched for her. They gave her a stimpak, some med-X and hooked up a rad-away all in quick succession. After waiting for a few minutes for the rad-away to reach the halfway point, they splinted it to her arm while her bandages were replaced.  Her flannel was buttoned up and they gave her another stimpak before they all made their way out of the camp, hoping they’d meet the NCR troops on their way to Camp Forlorn Hope before the Legion gave chase.

Nelson was overrun with Legion, the NCR had told them and Juniper wondered if Vulpes was there as she trudged along with her party.

“Raul?”

“What is it, boss?” She leaned against him, letting him support her as they walked slowly.

“I remember now.” He watched her silently, waiting for her to talk when ready as her eyes met his. They were dull, the skin underneath shadowed with her need to rest. “My family… they’re all dead.”

He hugged her close, remembering the determined young woman that had helped him out of imprisonment. “You’re my family, mija. And they’re still with you. Just like I know Rafaela is with me.”

She smiled and nodded at him as he gave her a gentle squeeze. But he noticed the haunted look returned to her features not long after.

 

* * *

 

Boone watched in satisfaction as the solar panels went online in the fields surrounding HELIOS One, the light nearly becoming blinding as they turned to catch the most amount of sunlight. He was standing outside the gates, near the front entrance and within sight of the tower and the panels surrounding it. Lieutenant Haggerty smoked a cigarette next to him, pulling on a pair of shades and watching silently as well. It was one of the things he liked about her, that she didn't feel the need to fill the empty spaces with even emptier conversation. They didn’t know each other well and he appreciated that she didn’t want to pretend otherwise.

They listened to the radio that charlatan scientist had left outside next to his lawn chair. He heard they were turning the solar panels on once again and had run inside, complaining that they had left the chief scientist out of the operation. Bob Crosby faded into the background as Mr. New Vegas began reporting on something or other, Boone’s mind wandering.

Arcade and Cass had spent most of the evening before arguing until they had finally come to an agreement. Then they had turned to him, saying he was outvoted on where the recovered electricity should be rerouted to. Boone had surprised them by giving no argument, agreeing with their decision that it should be spread out as much as possible before heading out to take the first watch. He knew it was for the best and if the power grid suffered, they would have to find some way to fix it. They’d done something similar at the East Pump Station with the water shortage. Six was handy at fixing things, ED-E her constant work in progress.

Although he recalled the many times they had come dangerously close to radiation poisoning quite clearly, both he and the courier keeping each other up when they finally emerged to fresh air, their last rad-away and rad-X completely out an hour before they made it out.

“So, is it true?” Haggerty asked, interrupting his train of thought.

“What?” he wondered, attention returning to the present.

“The Courier? She’s taken the mantle of Hero of the Wastes?”

He frowned, wondering what she was referring to before he recognized the voice of Private Morales on the radio, sending her thanks to them over the airways for retrieving her husband’s body. That whole ordeal had really chafed him in the worst way when he heard that the NCR brass was ready and willing to leave his body to some drugged-up Fiends. He had known Private Morales’ husband, had met him on his last tour and Morales deserved better than that. He had just been promoted to Ranger before he’d been ambushed and killed.

Boone grunted, nodding in agreement, not comfortable enough to go into detail. “She’s something.”

But they were interrupted as her radio crackled to life, the static followed by a voice that made his chest tighten when he recognized it. He felt his stomach drop as he heard the message she relayed through.

“Messenger to Base, I need the nearest medic near Cottonwood Cove.” The radio went silent for a moment before it came to life again, a different voice he didn’t recognize breaking through this time. “Messenger to Base. We need backup and a stretcher at Cottonwood Cove and hurry! Over.”

What the hell was she doing there? And why did she need a stretcher? The worry began gnawing at him as he met Haggerty’s frown of concern. When no one responded right away, she picked up the radio, responding. “Sunburst to Messenger, the nearest medic is at Camp Forlorn Hope, directly north of your location, coordinates...”

He waited until she finished getting the coordinates out before he asked her. “Why didn’t you send her to Nelson?” He wouldn’t have sent her to Novac, the new doctor that had replaced old Doc Hammer didn’t give him any confidence.

She looked pained as she turned the radio back on, answering his question at the same time that she issued the warning. “Avoid Nelson and vicinity. Legion activity has been on the rise and preliminary reports show at least a _contubernium_." 

He cursed under his breath, turning to find the others as fear gripped him, knowing it had been a bad idea to become separated.

He wasn’t going to let that happen again, he promised himself fervently, his mind focused on finding her now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize, I know that this is supposed to be a Six/Boone story and I feel that I have been depriving you all. I'm hoping to fix that soon. :)


	7. Growing Old Under the Gun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is dedicated to my younger sister. Thanks for the support, sister bear. <3  
> Edited: Removed a line that I found didn't fit.

They followed the road west out of Cottonwood, hyper-aware of their visibility to anyone in pursuit. But it was the only route that didn’t involve climbing and it was the fastest way for the requested backup to find them. And they needed it - or the stretcher, at the very least. The farther they went with the courier, the clearer it became that walking the day and a half it would take to get to Forlorn Hope would take closer to two, maybe two and a half depending on what they would come up against.

Raul kept his trigger finger quick and sure as ED-E warned them of any approaching danger from a distance. By the time the two NCR troopers were finally spotted cresting the hill, the ghoul and eyebot had already dispatched of a couple of crimson scouts they’d caught near the mouth of the valley while Siri worried about the ones they hadn’t seen. She feared that they'd report back to the Fort and bring a bigger force after them.

“ED-E will spot them no matter where they're hiding, Siri, and Raul will take care of anyone who gets too close,” Juniper assured with a grimace as she stuck another stimpak in her stomach, leaning back against an abandoned crucifixion. The victim had long since been freed. Or buried; there were no bones in the vicinity so she could only assume.

"That, or they'll let us know if we need to make a run for it. You're lucky heavy lifting is part of a procurement specialist's job description,” Veronica said with a touch of her usual humor. She flexed her bicep and blew a kiss at it with a smile while the courier shook her head once more. They had all agreed that if they were outnumbered, Veronica would carry the courier while Raul and ED-E gave her and Siri cover fire. Well, all of them had agreed except Juniper. She had already threatened Veronica that she'd shoot if she tried carrying her, preferring to help cover their retreat instead. She refused to be anyone’s burden.

There was also the responsibility she felt towards Siri after their escape; for all of them since it was her trip that had brought them here, to begin with, and she couldn't ignore her duty. She would kill who she needed to without question if it came to that. Besides, if the Legion caught her, she knew what she would do this time; she'd just make sure to save a bullet for herself and not miss.

And meeting Siri’s eyes after they darted to the crucifixion she was currently slumped against, she knew they were of the same mind despite her reassurances.

Removing the cap off a second stimpak she was about to inject it when Veronica took it out of her hand, giving it to Siri.

"Time to cut back, buddy. No offense, but you look like one of those junkies I see on their way to the Mormon Fort and we can’t have you passing out yet."  In its place, Veronica handed her a sarsaparilla, twisting the cap off and handing the bottle over.

“Yes, drink plenty, we need to prevent dehydration” Siri murmured, leaning down to check where she’d stuck the first needle. Thankfully, the stitching was holding out, but there was bruising around it suggesting internal bleeding, Siri had informed her worriedly. The stimpaks helped jumpstart the healing but they had to use them at intervals. The rush of white blood cells to the area of injection was enough to knock a normal person down from the change in blood pressure alone and it didn’t help that her blood reserves were already low.

With Juniper leaning on Veronica, Siri ended up with the courier’s satchel and the silenced 10-millimeter. Raul had been giving her pointers as they made their way towards Searchlight at a snail’s pace, showing her how to adjust her grip, how to hold it properly.  After he and ED had killed the second scout, Raul even showed her how to shoot it correctly so the recoil wouldn’t surprise and hurt her in the eventuality that she'd have to use it.

Juniper had been doing all Raul was telling Siri with her left hand on her magnum, getting fuzzy around the edges and forcing herself to focus by familiarizing herself with her gun once again.

Maria, she left in Veronica’s possession.

ED-E beeped as he neared them, the pair of NCR troopers trailing behind. They had approached at a run once they caught sight of their odd little company and they made a quick sweep of the area before they deemed it safe enough. When they pulled out the poles and canvas that made up the stretcher, her party nearly let out a sigh of relief as Juniper sank into it heavily, finishing as much of the drink as she could before taking another Med-X that Siri offered and passing out within moments.

The sun hitting her directly in the eyes is what finally woke her many hours later. It cast a golden glow as it sank over the rocky outcrop she was facing and it was the first thing she noticed before she registered the gunshots.

She was placed down on the hot asphalt, the sound of the NCR troopers unloading their weapons all she needed to hear before she sat up, wincing as her body protested. But at least she didn't feel as if she were tearing open anymore. It was progress, definitely, even if her whole being felt abysmally sore and tired.

Siri was nearby, gun pointed north where the battle was concentrated, taking the occasional shot from where she stood behind the overturned trailer they had left the stretcher down by. The muffled sound of the suppressed 10-millimeter made Juniper burn with anticipation. She wanted to jump into the battle, needed to feel it in her blood again, to enjoy the satisfaction of taking out those who threatened them.

It shouldn't have been surprising that she stumbled as soon as she began moving, the world spinning before she landed roughly on one palm and nearly tipping to the side. But the feeling of being unbalanced was, and she glanced down to see her newly bound arm, wondering when it had been put in a sling and strapped down. Her limb felt odd there, heavier than usual and it tingled down to the thumb almost painfully. She could only hope it was because of its position and the way it was tied up.

But she forced her attention on her gun, unholstering it and trudging forward, needing to get closer. Her aim was off, the weapon ambidextrous but her dominant eye not used to the change. She noticed her satchel on the ground behind Siri, forgotten. Some of the contents had spilled out and when she spotted the Psycho, she tucked it into the curve of the sling, unsure if she would need it but taking it anyway as she moved past Siri.

It was Vipers, from the looks of them, all leather and mohawks and crude tattoos. None of them had even noticed her yet. There were seven and it seemed like they had begun one of their rituals early as they usually came out in packs after dark.

Veronica was off in the distance, dodging bullets and caught behind a rocky outcrop in cover. She was the closest to the enemy, nearest to their encampment but she couldn’t get close enough to use her power fist with so many of them still shooting. The scribe pulled out Maria and shot when she could, but she mostly ducked as a pair of Vipers got closer to her.

Veronica was stuck there while Raul and the two NCR troopers shot from their own cover near a dilapidated shack. The scrap metal wouldn’t stand against shotgun shells if the Vipers got close enough to achieve better accuracy. But the gang remained where they were, their shooting erratic from such a distance, making Juniper wonder if they were all high right now. She watched ED-E move in closer, shooting at the ones closest to Veronica. Remaining a moving target, the eyebot's aim didn't suffer for it and he still managed to hit more than miss by a huge margin.

It wouldn’t take long, Juniper realized, crouching as she fought the fatigue.

They were down to the last three Vipers when the Legion finally found them.

 

* * *

 

It was a guess, but one he was willing to bet on. Boone and the others headed south towards the Gibson Scrap Yard and arrived in Novac within a few hours. Boone would’ve wanted to completely circumvent Novac if at all possible but he needed the height of the sniper’s nest there to keep a lookout.

She’d keep to the main road if a stretcher was needed, wouldn’t chance the back roads or mountain trails in those circumstances. It would take her through the area where the NCR patrolled between Searchlight and Ranger Station Echo and if any reinforcements were sent, they would come from those two outposts as they were the nearest to Cottonwood.

He headed towards the gift shop, Arcade and Cass trailing, and nearly collided with Daisy as she opened the door to the shop.

"Daisy," he greeted with a short nod before he went round her into the shop and up the stairs.

"Craig, where have you...? Arcade - what are you doing here? You didn't mention you'd be visiting."

Boone misses the rest of their conversation, ignores Cliff's surprised look as he goes past him. But he can't ignore Manny, who'd spotted him a while ago and was expecting him.

He recognizes the resentment, the look of betrayal on Manny's face. It was the same look he was sure he'd given him over a year ago when he told Manny of Carla's disappearance. When his best friend had looked almost happy that his wife had gone missing.

Boone waited silently for Manny to say what he wanted to say. He always did, never knew when to keep his mouth shut.

But Manny surprised him. "You gonna be here long?"

"No." Boone jerked his head southward through Dinky's fake teeth. "Need to keep an eye out for someone."

"Whatever, I'm going on break. Take over. I need a nap."

And he left before Boone could reply, leaving him to keep watch for the rest of the day.

Settling into the old, familiar chair, eyes ever south and resting his rifle across his thighs, he hoped he wasn't wrong.

 

* * *

 

ED-E spotted the Legionaries first, his warning tune getting all of their attention. They were coming from the south directly behind them, Juniper and Siri nearest to their oncoming approach. Siri let out a warning of her own when she saw them, running in the direction of the Vipers to hide from the men who had enslaved her. Crouching behind the trailer again with her back to the raiders now, she pointed her gun in the legionnaires' direction but her hand was shaking so much she couldn’t pull the trigger quickly.

Lasers began concentrating on the five men, one of them stumbling before dropping altogether after his leg was hit, a precise shot severing a vital artery that began bleeding uncontrollably. He wouldn't be getting up anymore but the other four continued attacking, armed with repeaters, a shotgun, and one with throwing spears and a machete.

The ones with the guns focused on ED-E as Juniper faced the other one. She backed up, barely dodging the trajectory of a spear that was launched in the direction she’d been standing. She took aim, shot, missed; did it again and missed once more. It was on her third try that she finally hit him, the satisfying crunch of her round biting into his chest plate reaching her ears.

The recoil wasn’t surprising but the weakness of her grip was. With a stubborn set to her jaw, she adjusted her stance a little more, left foot forward this time before taking aim again. She hit the torso once more and the legionary faltered. But he didn’t fall and continued approaching at a slower pace.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she hoped it was an ally and not a Viper. Momentarily distracted, she wasn’t quick enough to completely dodge the spear aimed at her a second time and it grazed her thigh, the blade cutting through. The sudden pain and intake of breath caused her chest to tighten alarmingly as she pulled the trigger again, this time catching him in the face. She hit the darkened goggles covering his eyes and his head flew back with such force she was sure he'd gotten whiplash. He staggered, falling to his knees while she fought from blacking out as her heart thundered erratically, her breathing constricted.

The edges of her vision darkened as she injected the needle into her untouched thigh. She felt the jolt of adrenaline hit her slow at first, but then with enough speed, it shocked her system awake again. She shot up straight, electricity running through her veins and took aim one last time.

But the head of the legionary exploded before she could pull the trigger and she stared at the body as it collapsed in a heap, blood spurting everywhere. She glanced around, realizing they had finished all of the hostiles, but not without some help.

Feeling the effects of the Psycho with no outlet now that all their enemies were dead, she became jittery with the rush. She turned when she heard ED-E’s friendly beeping, recognizing who it was he was trying to communicate with. And warmth flooded her immediately.

Elated and with a system running on the cocktail of adrenaline and painkillers that made up the Psycho, she broke into a light run, seeing Boone, Cass, and Arcade approaching at a jog towards them, their weapons still out. She should have slowed, shouldn’t have started running in the first place because she nearly ended up eating broken pavement as she reached them.

With quick reflexes, Boone caught her as she nearly crashed into him. But Juniper straightened quickly, hugging him tightly with one arm around his neck, the joy of seeing him alive and being near him again like a second jolt to her system. Her grip was stronger than he’d anticipated and he returned the hug just as fiercely, one arm around her waist, the other still holding his rifle.

He was careful to loosen his hold a little when he heard her hiss of pain, but he felt her breath on his neck, lips against his neck as she greeted him. “Craig, you’re a sight for sore eyes.”

“You look like hell,” he responded quietly, cursing himself inwardly, knowing this was the worst time for his blunt observations. But it was out there already and she laughed softly, pressing closer to him.

He allowed himself a moment to just hold her. He had no words planned really, was just beyond relieved to see her. He felt it in every bone in his body and it didn’t bother him as much as he thought it should, that he cared to such a degree. She was as close a partner as Manny had once been, closer still if the relief he felt was anything to measure it by.

"I didn't want you to see me like this," she confessed quietly, pulling away. She looked up, eyes searching his and he didn’t recognize the look she was giving him. She seemed different, he noticed it, but he was too focused on the obvious signs of hurt he could see, on the trace of fear that still remained on her and it diverted all his attention. She was shaking and he felt anger begin to burn brightly within, as familiar as ever. He decided to cling to that as he tried to get back on familiar footing.

“Who did this?” He asked tightly, taking in her overall appearance. He had an idea and would bet all the caps he owned on it, but he wanted it confirmed. It would help if she named them, immensely. Boone didn't need additional reasons to go after the Legion, but he wasn't against adding fuel to the fire. He needed to refocus his mission, remind himself of what he was doing out here. What the end game was for him.

But she frowned a little, not responding, eyes darting away from him as if she knew what he was thinking.

“Six, you look like you should make use of the stretcher,” Arcade finally said, breaking the tension. He was standing next to a woman Boone didn't recognize. He didn't recognize half of her party other than ED-E and the NCR grunts whose names he couldn't remember anymore, now that he got a good look at them. The woman was wearing a slave outfit and she held the emaciated look of one as well, but her eyes flashed with all the knowledge she possessed as she continued talking to the doctor in furtive whispers.

Juniper finally moved away from Boone as her heart continued racing. The Psycho was really getting to her, amplifying every baser instinct she possessed including the need to stay near him physically. But she couldn't keep it up, just like she couldn't lay still.

She shook her head jerkily, limbs still twitching. “I can’t. Just took a Psycho.”

Arcade let out a small sigh. She wondered when he'd gotten the black eye. Or black eyes, rather, as they both had fading bruises as he studied her worriedly “There’s a huge chance you won’t get much rest but you should still be on the stretcher. We’re not that far from Novac so humor me please?”

“Just listen to the doc, kid. Before you pass out from blood loss.” It was Cass.

Juniper brightened again, smiling at the sight of the redhead. But Cass pointed at the courier's leg and she eventually sank into the stretcher when she remembered her wound. More blood loss. She should be dying. She could be, she realized dully as they continued towards Novac, Arcade assuring her that the local doctor had blood packs in the small settlement.

While Boone felt more useful watching their surroundings, Veronica moved with the stretcher, reaching a hand out to her and giving it a squeeze of support. “Not your best week, huh?" But then she pointed at the scar on her temple with a gentle forefinger. "Or was that one worse?"

Juniper gave her a brittle smile, thinking of how she'd lost it all when Benny shot her. Remembering all of the dead, she came to a realization. “No… it was like a vacation.”

She trailed off again, thinking of the many other bad weeks she’d had. She thought of her mother and her sister. Her dad, who she had only gotten to know for a couple of years of seeing him and through letters before he was gone, too.  But she gave Veronica's hand a squeeze in return, knowing she understood pain. It was there, in her words, in her concern. She could've just walk next to her and left her to stew in her own thoughts, but she chose to engage instead, to probe gently. "But we all have our bad weeks, right?"

Veronica's smile quirked in agreement while her dark eyes reflected her sorrow. She kept it hidden well, and Juniper hoped she did too. It was better to hide from it now.

Juniper was pulled out of her morose thoughts when Veronica pressed something in the courier's hand. "Well, maybe your luck's about to change. This is yours; from the sarsaparilla you drank earlier."

Piqued, Juniper brought the bottle cap up to eye level, the design immediately catching her attention. It was a star bottle cap, one of the rare ones.

Appreciating Veronica's gesture and newly found friendship, Juniper gave her hand one more squeeze as the scribe continued walking beside her.

 

* * *

 

They made it to Novac just after dark and that’s where the NCR troops left them. They would sleep for a couple of hours and leave two hours shy of midnight to reach Searchlight by dawn. Juniper thanked them profusely, stuttering a little as the Psycho slowly left her system.

Boone unlocked his door and Arcade allowed them all to drop off their gear and Siri alone to remain in the room before he kicked the rest of them out to treat Juniper.

They all lingered outside awkwardly, the newly formed group the courier had brought together strangers to each other for the most part.

Boone leaned on the wall near the door, lighting a cigarette and closing himself off from the rest of them with his smoke and his silence. Cass let out a sigh before sinking down on the steps of the stairwell nearby, resting her chin on one hand. Raul lit his own cigarette, standing near Boone when Cass waved a hand in front of her face and complained.

But Raul's cigarette smoke smelled good, the scent almost sweet.

"What are you smoking, Raul? I've been meaning to ask you," Veronica asked quietly, her eyes following ED-E as he floated nearby, beeping sporadically. "It doesn't smell like the packs I've scavenged."

"It's my own grow and I roll them myself, Vero. You won't find these tossed in any trash heap."

Veronica 'hmm'd in response and they all grew silent again. It was quiet in the evening, the only sound that of Manny as he exited and locked his room before he headed up towards the sniper's nest after his break. That sniper's nest had helped Boone find the group when he did. He'd been watching perched there, his scope scanning when he saw the beginnings of the gun fight.

But Cass eventually grew bored and finally asked. "So what happened?"

"We're not sure," Veronica answered honestly after glancing at Raul. They'd been wondering themselves but hadn't felt comfortable asking so they left it alone. Besides the physical damage they’d seen, they weren't sure what had happened. Veronica hadn't felt comfortable pushing further than she had just yet.

"It was Legion that did that to her," Boone muttered. It wasn’t a question.

"Yes. She went to the Fort--"

"She _what?_ " What the fuck had possessed her?

"She had a mark, something that let her get in with Caesar's permission," Raul began, speaking quietly. There was a hint of warning in his tone, something Boone could barely detect, but he took note of it anyway. "But we'll let her tell the story when she's better."

Cass snorted, shaking her head and muttering about waiting on pins and needles before she stood up.

"I'm gonna get a drink," she announced before focusing on Boone for a moment. "Give me a holler when she's ready to talk. I'll be in Bruce's if you can't find me at the canteen."

And she sauntered away, not able to completely hide the worry tightening the skin around her eyes. Some booze and some sex ought to work out the stress.

Boone almost wished he could shut off his mind the same way as the others slowly drifted to their own areas to brood.

 

* * *

 

Veronica and Raul ended up renting a room from Cliff and were probably asleep by the time Arcade finally opened the door, light from Boone’s spilling out into the night.

It was a quiet one, Manny’s rifle only going off once in the whole time Boone and ED-E had remained in the same spots, waiting. Boone straightened, uncrossing his arms, dark thoughts interrupted as Arcade pulled the door closed behind him, not completely shutting it so they could see each other in the dark.

“She’s sleeping now,” the doctor began before Boone could ask. “They both are, actually. Siri was suffering from recent trauma as well, although not as incapacitating as what Six went through physically.”

Boone forced himself to ask, afraid of the answer. “What’s the extent of it?”

Arcade pinched the bridge of his nose gently, still mindful of the break, and letting out a quiet breath. “She has a stab wound in the lower abdomen, which was still bleeding when I looked at it. I don’t know how she was standing, but I guess the Psycho had a lot to do with it. A few stimpaks have helped immensely and she’ll recover from it, I believe. She said she was able to use a stimpak on it when it happened but she went three days without any more so it hadn’t fully closed--”

“Wait, three days?” Boone was stunned. That meant she’d been in a Legion camp that whole time. His mind spun as he thought of what else could’ve happened in three days.

Arcade sighed, his own frustration showing through. But he continued with his brief summary on her state of health, wanting to get it all out there now. “She also had a laceration on her back and a deeper one on her shoulder, near the neck, machete I would say as well. Unfortunately, I can’t check the extent of the damage to the nerves because it looks like they tried some archaic method of cauterizing the wound and it burned her back--”

“Stop,” Boone finally interrupted, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

Arcade nodded, understanding. “You can go see her if you'd like. Just don’t wake her. It was hard getting her to sleep without pumping her full of more chems.”

And the doctor walked away, needing some fresh air for a moment before he came back to keep his vigil.

When he finally returned, it was to sit by Boone on the couch as they both kept an eye on the women sleeping on the sniper’s bed, lost in their own thoughts.

 

* * *

 

It was Veronica’s infectious laugh that welcomed Juniper into consciousness again. She was on her stomach again but elevated on a small stack of pillows, her back sore from the angle.

“You’re awake, and just in time to see my masterpiece,” Veronica said, excitement on her face as she came within Juniper’s line of sight.

“Wha…?”

“I’ll completely understand if you want to scalp her for not asking your permission first.” It was Cass, Juniper noticed and she was stretched out like a cat next to her on the bed, curling on her side to look at the courier with a smug smile as she set her magazine down. Her hat and jacket were off and when she touched Juniper’s cheek gently, she noticed the gloves were off as well. “How’re you feeling?”

“Thirsty,” Juniper answered honestly.

“Ok, let me just finish up while Cass gets you a drink,” Veronica said, standing somewhere behind her. The courier heard the snip of scissor blades and saw a lock of her dark hair slide down onto one of the pillows she rested on. They smelled faintly of Boone and as she glanced at her surroundings from her position, she remembered where she was. "It isn't perfect, but now that you're awake, I'll even it out."

Veronica helped her sit up when Cass returned with a water bottle and Raul from the open doorway, light trickling in from outside. Juniper noticed Arcade was stretched out on the couch in the room, snoring softly but she couldn’t see Boone or Siri or ED-E.

“Where are the others?”

ED-E beeped when he heard her, near the open doorway outside of the room.

“Siri’s in our room. She’s using the bath and getting some more rest. Arcade’s _jefa_ gave her something to change into,” Raul told her, giving her an appraising look.

“I thought it was his aunt?” Veronica murmured, brushing the cut hair away gently.

“No, I think Raul's right. Isn’t she his mom?” Cass wondered, going over to sit on the chair near the edge of the couch Arcade was on.

“Why don’t you ask him,” Boone muttered as he exited his bathroom, a towel wrapped around his neck. He was fresh out of the bath, Juniper could tell as he got closer, the smell of the soap still fresh on his skin. He took the other chair in the room, the one beside the bed and the room felt overcrowded with all of them there.

“Boone, you got a mirror?” Veronica asked with one final sweep of her hand through Juniper’s hair.

“Yeah. Come on,” he said, reaching over to help Juniper up. She thought he would help her stand, but he did her one better, picking her up and carrying her to his bathroom before he set her down gently on shaky legs. “You shouldn’t be moving too much yet,” he said by way of explanation as she faced the broken mirror, even though she hadn’t asked.

Juniper swallowed, facing her reflection and wasn’t sure what she felt as she looked at herself in the broken shards. Veronica had snipped all the burned pieces off, her braid now gone. In its place, her dark waves now barely brushed her shoulders. She ran the fingers of her good hand through the back, stopping when she touched the bandage covering the nape of her neck, where her choppy cut ended. She focused on her eyes, the shadows underneath them, the small frown that remained between her brows. She saw the scar on her temple, the healing, pink line on her cheek where Benny had caught her with the machete.

“You were right,” she finally murmured in the silence, knowing the others were probably listening since she couldn’t hear more beyond Arcade’s muffled snores.

“About what?”

“I should’ve killed Benny when I had the chance,” she muttered bitterly, hand going to her stomach.

Meeting Boone’s eyes as she turned, he frowned down at her but didn’t say anything. He merely picked her up and returned her to the bed before taking the chair next to it again. She waited for Cass to shake Arcade awake so she could finally tell them all what happened.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end scene was inspired by a scene in Final Fantasy VII when your party meets in the hotel room in Kalm after leaving Midgar. When Cloud starts coming clean... sorta.
> 
> Looking forward to that remake, but not what it's going to do to my wallet. xD


	8. The Woman You Stole

Juniper closed her eyes and lay back against the wall gingerly, tired from more than just the Med-X that was trying to pull her under. Painkiller or not, she was going to ask Arcade to take her off of it, hating how slow and dim it made her feel. It didn't help that it was doing weird things to her dreams as well, twisting them in new ways as she was still struggling to thread her past and the last few months together.

Luckily, the group let her talk without interrupting. Even Boone remained silent, despite the scowl she’d caught out of the corner of her eye several times as she gave her brief recount, starting with her receipt of the Mark and going through meeting Caesar, installing the chip, facing Benny and then finally escaping with Siri’s help. She was concise, knew she needed to let them all know where things stood. But she was also careful to give as little detail as possible on how she’d gotten hurt; her chest constricting at the thought of voicing what happened. She had already observed Arcade's reaction and Juniper preferred to lick her wounds in private, even if that was impossible now. She grew a new appreciation for Boone's reticence when it came to sharing.

The courier counted it a success, despite her injuries - the Securitrons were on and waiting. She was also finally come clean with all of them about her intentions and felt lighter for telling them.

“So...” Arcade broke the silence first and she sat up, forcing herself to focus. The hint of disapproval in his voice was not unexpected. “... are you planning on maintaining the status quo under House’s apathetic leadership? Or did you just tell him you would do his bidding the same way you convinced a warmongering dictator that you would?”

“It doesn’t matter what I convinced Caesar of any more, Arcade. He knows I’m no good for it now. The Mark only covered me one time and even then, I wasn’t under full protection. I’m sure he’s not thrilled that I ‘stole’ his medic from right under his nose, either, even though that's not what actually happened. By the way, is Siri ok?” At the doctor's reassuring nod, the tension in her shoulders loosened an inch and she let out a small sigh of relief,  her mood lifted. “Look, I’m going to do what I can to help as many as I can. I didn’t lie about that. I’m still hoping you’ll all help. If you don’t want to be part of this, I’ll understand, completely.” She paused, giving them a chance to digest, knowing she meant it. She wondered what she would’ve done if she were in their shoes, if she were given the chance to follow any one of them on some mad plan. But she knew her answer almost immediately.  

“War is coming no matter what any of us decide to do. The Legion are preparing for it, day and night - I was just witness to it. The Republic's not going to be enough to push them back this time, not without reinforcements that haven't arrived and I have a chance to do something, something potentially huge. I'm asking for your help. For your weapons, for your skills and experience. We can fix some of what's wrong out here and I'm asking you to stand with me to do so. We'll kill as many Legion as possible as we go along.”

While Raul had nothing concrete against the Legion and ED-E would follow her to whatever end she met, the others weren’t content to sit idly by and let Caesar win. They all had their own reasons and for now, they didn’t ask for more. 

Cass, she still wasn’t completely sure of, though. Not that she would side with the Legion - that wasn't the feeling she got about the merchant at all. The courier just didn't have her motivation figured out yet. The redhead seemed to have the same reservations about her, giving her a measuring look of her own and she knew they were going to have another conversation about this soon.

Arcade reminded her that he needed to look at her arm again and stood from the couch as the others slowly drifted out. 

“Raul.” She got his attention and he turned, coming back. “You going to stick around? You don’t owe me anymore, not after you fished me out of Lake Mead.”

“I know, jefa.” He leaned back against the wall, pulled Maria off his belt. Veronica didn't like handguns, preferred her power fist or laser weapons if she needed a ranged option so she had passed it along. The ghoul twirled it with practiced ease in one hand, a complete pro before handing it over, holding it by the muzzle with the _Virgen_  facing her. “I know you're going through a hiring phase right now, but I’m staying. Not so much because I'm the model employee. It's mostly because of the benefits package.”

"Hn, thanks for the support." She frowned at the gun for a moment, not liking it much anymore. But she took it and set it down on the small table by the bed, next to her pip-boy as Arcade lifted her right hand. 

Boone hadn't moved yet, she saw. He remained seated but his face was turned away, eyes glued to the ceiling and by the stiffness of his jaw and the grim line of his mouth, she knew he was probably still fuming at her.

“Do you feel that?”

“What?” She turned to Arcade then glanced down when she felt the pressure, saw he was pressing down on her pinky nail. He then tugged on her finger lightly. “Uh, yeah.”

He moved to her middle finger, did the same and she nodded once more. When he moved to her thumb, she recoiled, pulling back suddenly as a shooting pain ripped through her arm and her elbow connected with the wall behind her loudly.

Groaning, she hugged her arm close as Arcade frowned and shook his head minutely. “I don’t think the NCR Camp’s going to cut it with the injuries you have. As soon as we can, we should head to the New Vegas Clinic. Doctor Usanagi and the Auto-Doc should really have a look at your shoulder.”

"What about her burns? Those should be looked at immediately." She glanced questioningly at Raul, wondering what he knew about it before she mentally kicked herself and remembered his obvious ghoulification.

"I'm not ignoring those. We'll stop at the NCR post first, depending on how the burns look once she can walk. But they won't have the necessary equipment and maybe not even the expertise to look into the potential nerve damage--"

“Can I request that the Med-X you're giving me be replaced with something else, please?" Not wanting to hear more, she changed the subject, hoping for some relief. "Whiskey would be my first choice but I’ll take vodka if you think a clear alcohol is a better option.” She smiled winningly at Arcade as he continued frowning down at her.

“You can't be serious.”

“I’m going to do it anyway, Arcade. I hate this stuff.”

“As your current acting physician, I'm going to _strongly advise_ you against that."

“Just thought you should know.” He didn’t look happy at all and she felt a smidgen of remorse, but not enough to change her mind. Booze she could handle. 

“You’re worse than a baby without a bottle, jefa,” Raul intervened, remembering a smoke had been the first thing she’d asked for when she opened the door of his prison, complaining that her last pack had ended up crushed beneath her when she slipped on super mutant blood. Her back had been covered in it but the long rifle she carried remained pristine and with the gratifying thought that he wouldn’t go feral in his solitude, he'd offered up his remaining one. Looking at the doctor presently, he gave him an understanding look as he lit one and handed it over to an eager hand. “You just gotta feed one of the vices and she’ll usually be in a more agreeable mood.”

But Arcade sighed in frustration. “If your anxiety is high, you should _quit_ smoking. It's a common misconception that they help calm you down.”

Juniper smiled with no remorse this time as she took her first drag and Raul snickered and puffed along with her. 

"I gather I'm wasting my breath with you three," the doctor groused, shaking his head in defeat. She sat back carefully on a pillow this time and he returned to the couch, grabbing the water bottle on the small end table. He looked curiously at her and the ghoul after taking a long drink. “So how do you two know each other?”

Juniper let Raul tell the tale, listening absently and with fading attention as she smoked and focused on the sunlight coming in through the open doorway. It was quiet during the day, Novac not bringing in a lot of traffic. She heard ED-E’s reassuring beeping in the background and someone climbing up the stairs near the doorway, footsteps light and unhurried. Farther off, she heard No-Bark chatting up a stranger before hearing Veronica's recognizable laugh and she wished fiercely for a moment that she was present to hear that particular conversation. 

Glancing at Boone once more, she noticed he still looked closed off but his head was tilted a little and she knew he was listening to the other two talk. He looked on edge, more so than usual and she was aware of the lingering tension between them. But she was wary of clearing the air because she wasn't sure what it would take to do so.

"How'd it go at HELIOS One?" she finally ventured quietly.

His ears were sharp, caught her question. His tone was surprisingly mild, however, considering the fierce look he turned in her direction. "Took care of it. Power's on and extending the grid to capacity now. Blackouts are going to be an issue."

"Hmm..." She expected that, needed to start getting the Followers and the Kings on board to keep the stations running once the repairs were issued. Veronica and Raul could help her figure out the grid repairs. She just needed to get a steady supply of scrap and copper wiring, which wouldn't be impossible. The harder part would be the ever elusive duct tape... 

Wishing she had both hands available to start searching through her pip-boy for any notable stashes, she finished the cigarette slowly. But while her mind tried to place the last time she'd found whole lightbulbs and old table lamps, she also hoped this would be one of those times when Boone wouldn't ask her anything, where he wouldn't pry. She knew without a doubt that she was going to have to tell him some of her past - he had trusted her with some of his worst already. It was only fair that he know she wasn't just a blank slate who'd done a couple of good deeds in their travels.

She paused, momentarily wondering if her motivation since waking up in Goodsprings was the need to make up for Zion. Benny hadn’t told it right - it wasn’t her meddling that had resulted in a high death count of those tribals. It had been her hesitation to do anything to ruin what the Sorrows stood for. She had wanted to retain peace when war was nipping at everyone's heels and it had been the wrong decision.

But Boone let her be and remained in the chair. And despite her dark thoughts, it seemed that only seconds later the cigarette was being pulled out of her mouth slowly.

Opening her eyes, she saw Boone crushing it out on the ashtray nearby. “You’re gonna burn this place down,” he told her, noticing she was awake.

“Sorry....” Semi-awake was more accurate. She felt pretty out of it, sank deeper into the bed until she was laying down once again. She heard Raul and Arcade still talking, Arcade letting out a short bark of laughter at something. The sound was pleasing and she felt ready to drift off once again until she noticed the way Boone was sitting. His legs and arms were crossed and he reclined against the wall, pulling his beret over his eyes. He looked to be trying to sleep. 

Feeling bad for invading his space and taking his bed, she knew it was pointless to tell him to take his bed back, even if she offered to move. It would just be a losing battle with the others in the room.

She was almost under once again when she suddenly remembered something - some way to possibly make it up to him. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to use the rifle anytime soon, she reached out, hand landing on his leg in sudden urgency, barely able to open her eyes once more. “Craig - that rifle case we brought with us? It's for you. You should take it out on a test run, get a feel for it before we hit the road again.”

She wouldn’t say she waited with bated breath because she was losing consciousness and there was no fighting it. But she drifted off with more ease once she saw him nod once, felt the warmth of his hand as it took her cold one from his leg, the rough palm and brief squeeze on her fingers before she heard his muttered "thanks".

She hoped it wasn't just the Med-X messing with her.

 

* * *

 

Boone closed the door behind him and knew something was off when he smelled the charred meat in the air. Setting his rifle down, he noticed slightly burnt pieces of what he guessed was squirrel meat were served on plates on the small table set, mismatched cutlery resting on colorful cloth napkins. They were the ones Jeannie May had given them, a house-warming gift when they first arrived.

“Carla?” He called out quietly, the radio low in the background. There were fresh flowers in the vase. She had stacked her small collection of photographs of the Strip and their wedding and brief honeymoon into a neat pile and placed them on the end table near her side of the bed. She usually had them spread on the table, slowly framing them when she grew restless.

He waited for her to come out of the bathroom, the way she had that day, bright eyes slightly red and puffy but waving him towards the table, urging him to sit. And after pretending to eat for a moment, she would tell him she was pregnant, nearly making him choke on his first, toasted bite before she burst into tears. He would pull her onto his lap and brush her tears away, confused by her reaction but not able to shelve how overjoyed he felt at the news. He’d let himself get carried along by the thought that he might have a chance to start anew, had been younger and more hopeful then.

But it didn’t happen. It was like one of those films he had seen on holotape with her, except the next scene never played out the way it was supposed to. He stood in the living area, waiting for her. When she didn't come, he walked into the bathroom and found no one there. It was barren, the mirror broken and the floor covered in a small puddle of blood. A dripping began in his ears, calling him back to the room he had just left.

He felt the ice in his veins, the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. He knew what he would see but couldn’t stop himself from turning and heading back to the living area. He had never been able to escape it.

He found her on the table, her back to him and he was grateful for the darkness, that he couldn't see her back in the shadows. And when he inevitably sat in front of her, he would find her looking at him with dead eyes and a fresh bullet hole in her head, the abrasion ring spread out from the center. Blood still oozed out and it slid down her cheek, hung on her chin before it dripped onto the plate below.

The continuous dripping is what usually woke him up, driving him to wakefulness as it grew louder and louder until it was echoing in his head.

But it was a mournful cry that jerked Boone awake this time, breath short, heart racing, hand twitching as it reached for the familiar warmth of his sniper rifle. It was right next to him, a familiar weight and he relaxed momentarily, pulling his beret off to see that the day was still bright, light still making it in through the open window. 

He took a moment to focus on the stillness of the room and eventually slowed his breathing. That table set was broken apart now, the flowers long dead and never replaced. The frames had been put away and the broken ones tossed. The room was empty now but for the sparse furniture, anything making it resemble what he used to have quickly removed. He was alone, but for the courier still sleeping fitfully on the bed and he straightened to look at her, to make sure she wasn’t in pain. She looked distressed, but it seemed to be nothing more than a bad dream and when he pressed a hand on her head, brushed the damp hair away from her forehead, he knew there was no fever.

He sighed, sitting back down and rubbing his face as he tried to relax. He felt something close to relief that his dreams of Carla had returned, didn’t want to think that he was forgetting even if the nightmare was one of his worst ones. 

He tried to remember the day clearly. He didn't want the bad to color every good thought he had of her so he remembered how it had been once again. 

The day she told him she was pregnant had been a bittersweet one. It had been the first time he’d seen her usual poise crack, her voice a little wobbly as she shared the news. Carla had feared pregnancy those first few months. She had already lost two previously, she’d told him tearfully that night, when he had finally asked her if the baby was making her unhappy. She didn’t want to lose another one but was already bracing herself for the possibility. 

Carla had been a small woman, but she had cleared her first trimester, despite looking pale and sick the majority of it. She was nearing her fifth month, barely starting to wear looser dresses when she finally began glowing with cautious optimism.

And it was during this time that his past finally began catching up with him as Jeannie May sold Carla to Legion slavers.

Boone had known Carla all of eight months, been married for six of them when he finally caught up to her and shot her in the head to spare her the horrific fate of becoming a Legion slave. There was no way she would survive that, what they’d do to her.

He leaned back against the wall, closed his eyes. The pain felt fresh, the wound raw and Novac had everything to do with it. His dreams of her hadn’t been this vivid for a few weeks now and he knew the reason why. Didn’t like it, either, that he had gotten so busy that he was almost distracted from his objective.

But as he glanced at Six once more, he couldn't quite bring himself to regret what they had done so far. And everything was starting to shift; he could almost taste it. It was in the air, beginning to feel like it did those weeks before the First Battle of Hoover Dam when they all marched in and prepared; the main force, the Rangers, and 1st Recon.  The courier seemed to have her head in the game, even if she wasn't there physically yet. He had seen that pensive look in her eye before she'd passed out. She was plotting, hadn't stopped since they reached the Strip. 

He just needed to get her to stop leaving him behind. He could grudgingly admit that if her mission had been to install the chip, she had done well not to including him. Didn't mean he wasn't pissed at her for doing it. But something told him they would make it into The Fort again before long and he would be ready.

Deciding sleep was out of the question, he spotted the rifle case she mentioned, slinging it over his shoulder. He'd head to the sniper’s nest again, knowing Manny would be asleep.  Target practice sounded about right. 

He opened the door to find Siri with a hand raised as if about to knock and her eyes widened, looking up in surprise before she backed up. "Oh, I'm sorry. Is, um..."

"She's asleep," he confirmed, stepping out of the way. She had changed into a cream-colored dress and as he looked closer, he noticed the small yellow flowers printed on it were jarringly familiar.

"Where did you get this?" he demanded, recognition making his voice harsh.

Her eyes remained wide as she looked at him and he was sure it was with fear this time. "Daisy gave it to me, said the size was about right."

It was; Siri was small, they way Carla had been. But he felt like an ass for scaring her, knew she was probably still jumpy after what she survived so he apologized. "Sorry. Didn't mean anything by it."

She nodded, still looking startled. But she surprised him, seemed to swallow her fear. "I... I wanted to thank you, for letting me stay here the night."

He nodded, feeling like even more of a jerk and she disappeared into his room without another word, the sight of the blue galoshes on her feet leaving him with the lingering question of who they had once belonged to.

Boone didn't want to add Six to the nightmares he was having. And while he had joined her as a means to an end, now more than ever, he believed she would lead him where he needed to go. 

He just needed to keep her alive while he got there. 

 

* * *

 

It was a mild night as they all gathered outside to eat dinner at the picnic tables near the medical tent. The tent itself was usually empty, the sight of the blood-spattered doctor enough to drive all but the most desperate away most days. But Cliff had a spit going near the lit trash cans on the other end of the tables, three molerats he had left sitting in a marinade for a few hours beforehand turning over the flame. The mix made the meat more palatable, got rid of some of its gamey flavors. There were more guests than Novac was used to with the courier’s party arriving the day before and the caravan that had stopped by this afternoon deciding to stay the night. Cliff used all three carcasses, Boone dropping them off after shooting them on his watch in Dinky’s jaw, the heads completely gone but the rest intact. 

Juniper wondered how he was doing. She hadn’t seen him since she’d fallen asleep and he hadn’t come down for dinner either. He probably wasn’t going to come down until Manny started his shift around midnight. But she had seen the muzzle of the anti-materiel rifle through the fake teeth when she'd walked out for dinner with Siri, so he’d liked her gift enough to put it to use.

But she thought of the broken frame Siri had found in his room earlier while cleaning. It was her way of showing gratitude and she'd found it stuck behind the couch. Juniper had refused to look at the picture after glancing at it when Siri asked her if she thought Boone would want to keep it. It felt completely wrong to look at it, at  _them_ without his knowledge or permission. She had asked Siri not to throw it out but had remained unsure of what to do with it as there were no other traces of Carla in his room.

Arcade mentioned he’d be accompanying Daisy on her weekly trip to REPCONN the following morning and took Veronica's offer when she asked if she could go along with them. The doctor refused ED-E when he beeped at him and Juniper translated, however, and Veronica patted ED-E sympathetically, telling him it was out of her hands.

As much as the courier itched to go with them, she knew it wasn’t an option. She hadn’t taken the Med-X Siri handed her once she woke up and she felt pretty miserable without it already. But it wasn’t so bad that she wanted to take the pills again and she tried to keep it under wraps as much as possible. Maybe tomorrow she’d feel a little more normal.

When Cass joined them with a man Juniper hadn’t met, she straightened in her seat. The courier was dressed in the vault suit that Doc Mitchell had given her, hair clean and untangled finally. She had made use of Boone’s tub and she was capable of putting the vault suit on by herself, even with her arm in a sling. It was also easy to unzip it and pull down when Siri or Arcade replaced her bandaging. 

"Courier, this is Bruce. Met him some time ago in New Reno.”

She perked up at the mention of New Reno. When Cass set out a couple of whiskey bottles and Juniper offered to buy some off her despite Arcade’s protests, she took the opportunity to try to figure out if Cass was going to stay with the group.

But Cass kept it as impersonal as possible, deferring to Bruce so smoothly that Juniper noticed she still had no idea what Cass was feeling towards what they’d talked about earlier until she was two-thirds of the way down her bottle. She was drunk and happy by then and realized it was too late to try to steer the conversation at this point as the lounge singer had just let slip why he had left New Reno behind. 

“Wait, so if your boss owed you the money, why is he sending someone after you? That doesn’t sound like the whole story,” Veronica questioned curiously. Juniper wondered that as well, but she was busy taking another sip from her bottle, slumped on the table comfortably. Cass really had the best stuff. She felt extremely warm and relaxed.

Bruce must’ve felt it too because he reached up and pulled on the collar of his shirt a little. “I, uh… I also slept with his daughter… a little…”

He looked at Cass with a relieved smile when she burst out laughing at his admission and Juniper chuckled as well.

“Wow, that took some balls.” Veronica voiced their thoughts once again, sounded suitably impressed at the story. 

“Yeah, well…” Bruce continued looking uncomfortable, realizing he was speaking to three women.

“If you need some caps and a place to stay, why don’t you go to The Tops? I heard they were looking for talent last time I was there.” The courier didn’t know what happened to the business cards Tommy Torini had given her all those months ago. She wasn’t sure if her name was still as welcome as it once was around The Chairmen, either. Sending Bruce with no personal recommendation was probably the best she could do.

Bruce thanked her and then stood slowly, bidding them all good night and Cass followed before Juniper could protest as well. Arcade had left earlier, wanting to catch up on sleep before his trip tomorrow and Siri had followed not long after, just staying long enough to eat before she bid them all goodnight. When Juniper glanced towards the skeletal gas pumps to her right, she could see the lit cigarettes of Raul and Ranger Andy. They weren’t speaking at the moment, just smoking, but she had seen them talking earlier.

There had been no option to rent another room, the hotel filled to capacity. Cass was bunking with Bruce and Arcade had taken over Daisy’s couch. Raul and Vero were still sharing while Siri and the courier had taken over Boone's bed. She, unfortunately, had no choice in the manner until she was able to walk and they could leave Novac behind.

Thinking that he hadn't eaten and that he probably wouldn't she glanced up towards Dinky, spying the lit cherry of Boone's cigarette from a distance. Feeling bold enough to attempt a small climb after sleeping through most of the day, she took some leftover meat and a few slices of the flatbread they made here in the Mojave. "Could you please wake me before you leave, Veronica? I want to see you guys off."

Veronica nodded, brushing crumbs off her chest. "Need any help carrying that up?" 

"Nah, I've got it." She had the extra bottle she had bought from Cass in the curve of her sling, resting against her arm. She walked slowly, careful to not to jar anything as she climbed up and kicked the door softly. "Open up, got a delivery for you."

Boone opened the door and stepped back, cigarette still in hand as she squeezed around the door and shut it with her hip. He blew the smoke out through Dinky's jaw, continued watching her silently when she offered the plate. She couldn't see his eyes in the darkness, there was no moonlight hitting them in its current angle. 

"You didn't come down for dinner."

"Too many people," he explained, taking the plate and offering her his cigarette, which she took gladly, leaning back against the door and sliding down into a sitting position. They sat in silence, eating and smoking and in Juniper's case, drinking as well. She offered him some but he refused, eating and staring out at the landscape as he sat in his chair, rifle against the jaw wall. He surprised her when he spoke again. "Where'd you get the rifle?"

"Utah," she answered truthfully, knowing this was as good a place as any to begin.

He turned, lifted an eyebrow at her. "You remember now?"

"Yeah. After Benny." She didn't elaborate, took a long swallow from the bottle, felt the burn down her throat.

After a beat he asked, his tone curious. "Where's home for you, then?"

"With--" she froze, stopped herself before she ended that sentence with something stupid that could ruin them, like "you". 

Her eyes flew to him as he frowned down at her. She feared for a moment that he knew what she had been about to say so she cleared her throat and tried again. "I lived in California for a little while. Near the Divide, small town that's not there anymore. Before that, I lived in New Reno for a couple of years. On and off, you know, as a courier I wasn't home much. But I couldn't stay there long, 'Sol--" she hesitated, realized she was rambling. But she had already started so she figured it was best to continue. "It wasn't a good place for two girls, even in my uncle's care. So we went to Hopeville to find our dad after we found the name of the town at my uncle's house. We lived there for a few years, while I did my deliveries. 'Sol wanted to study with the Followers so we took her to the local chapter, asked if she could train with them. She was good at it, moved through the lessons quickly." She tilted her head back, the crown resting against the grain of the wood, and felt a little more grounded from the rough contact. "I was on a delivery when Hopeville was swallowed up by the Divide."

This one hurt and she didn't know why she started with this painful part of her life, could only blame how new some of these memories still felt. It's wasn't that she didn't recognize them. It was that they were slowly becoming whole, starting as only snippets of information until she thought deeper on any one of those snippets and the whole memory slowly unraveled.

She thought of Camp McCarran, wondering if this is how it would be between them, sharing painful memories in the middle of the night. She waited, asking herself why she continued getting drunk around him, thinking how that night had been the beginning of... whatever this was that wasn't going away. 

"What were their names?"

Confused, she glanced up. "My parents? Paz. And Daniel. My sister's name was Marisol." He nodded slowly and she was grateful that he had asked as she thought of them individually, all the fragments coming together once again.

They remained silent after that until she felt her tailbone protesting her position and she pushed herself up. Boone stood with her, slinging the rifle case over his shoulder as well. He put his arm out for her to hold onto as she stepped down carefully, the way down harder than the climb up. 

But she made it without being carried, she would be sure to tell Arcade tomorrow.

As it was, it would be necessary for her to walk, because the next day after Arcade and Veronica left with Daisy, Mr. New Vegas reported that Nelson had been taken. 

Her eyes were fierce as they met Boone's across the room and she hoped he understood that she was going without question. But she couldn't say for sure that they were on the same page because when he handed her the beret she had left in the rifle case later, she suddenly remembered the letter she had written him. She cursed her luck, knowing she couldn't lie to him about this anymore.  

And remembering the picture Siri had found yesterday with stunning clarity - a brief glance of a happy couple - she knew she would have to find some way to move on from this when Boone wouldn't look her in the eye anymore.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I shifted things several times in this chapter so it it seems a bit choppy, please let me know. It's also been a pretty rough week so there is a big chance I missed something while editing and I apologize in advance for that.  
> On a personal note: show your loved ones some appreciation, tell them how much they mean to you. Don't take anyone for granted because life is heart-breakingly short sometimes. <3


	9. Facing Trouble Almost All My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited as of 11.8 - The last couple of paragraphs were tweaked.  
> IMPORTANT note is included at end of chapter.

Juniper blocked out the heat of the sun beating down on her dark hair, ignored the sweat that was making her itchy beneath the bandage on her neck. She focused on a slow inhale and then a slower exhale as she adjusted the stock and finally looked through the scope at the waddling gecko. It hadn’t spotted her yet, none of them had. But it would pick up speed soon when it finally sensed her.

Finger still away from the trigger, she waited a beat, zeroing in. Boone’s hunting rifle was similar to the one he’d given her months ago except for the scope; the model on his was heavier and it suited her just fine. With its weight, she was able to keep her aim steady just long enough to zero in and shoot once she had her target spotted and she needed to get stronger anyway.

The gecko straightened for that short moment to check out its surroundings before it took off across the hot, cracked roadside to the rest of its group. Waiting for it, she squeezed the trigger, bracing for the recoil.

She didn’t hit the gecko where she’d aimed, punching through neck instead of skull, the reptile still in mid-run before it hit the ground. Its crash alerted the other three geckoes nearby and they all looked up before breaking into a run towards her.

The courier shifted her position as the targets moved, keeping her weak elbow elevated on an upraised knee as she knelt on the overpass outside of Novac. She aimed at the nearest one, shot, pulled and returned the bolt left-handed. The spent casing bounced off her arm before it hit the pavement at the same instance that her second shot rang out with a sharp crack. She emptied the rifle on the racing geckos before pulling her eyes away from the scope, guessing it would take three more shots. Placing the rifle on the ground, she reached for her sidearm to take aim once again.

She was off by one round as the final gecko fell ten yards from her, the headshot clear this close.

Standing with a quick turn to take in her surroundings, she holstered the magnum on her right hip. She was getting more precise with the handguns and if she took the magnum, Maria and Boone’s rifle she’d have twenty-five rounds and a combat knife at her disposal before having to reload. Being able to do so rapidly was one of her hardest challenges still.

“Four targets, eight rounds. Tch.” Boone’s voice was cold, clearly unimpressed.

Juniper turned, brow furrowed. “You didn’t say I had a limit on ammo.”

“Should’ve done it with four. Five max. You’re not ready.” He wasn’t looking at her, instead glaring eastward, towards Nelson.

Slinging the rifle, Juniper turned back towards the geckos as she reloaded the magazine slowly. Spotting a gleam of gold maybe a hundred meters away, she lifted the rifle once again and took aim with her splinted arm this time. It was heavy, a portion of it feeling like it was asleep and it took some effort just to lift it high enough to fit the stock in the pocket of her bad shoulder, wrapping the strap around her good arm to steady it.  She zeroed in with the scope once again, taking her time to get it right with so much distance between them. Luckily, there was barely any wind and the day was clear and bright, the sun at an angle that only caused minimal glare. Holding a breath before she completely let it out, she squeezed the trigger and the eruption along her right side was worth it as the gecko fell after that single shot.

The way her shoulder was throbbing was another challenge, the pain running down her arm from where the rifle stock had been sitting pulsing hotly. Her hand was twitching with the pounding sensation and she was grateful for the thin, tightly-woven poncho she had gotten from the caravan as it hid most of her bound arm from sight. Siri had splinted the upper arm to minimize movement, trying to protect the healing she had done so far. It worked to a degree but if the pain was any indication...

Plastering on a triumphant smirk, she turned back to Boone, pushing the sunglasses up the bridge of her nose. It was another find from the caravan, a pair Cass had plucked out for her while they were picking through the wares.

Juniper had attached herself to the redhead as soon as she spotted her after breakfast, told her of her plan to head out to Nelson that day. It was a good thing, too, since Boone had gone silent, the words he’d just told her the most he had spoken to her all day. Cass hadn’t seemed all that enthusiastic, either, now that she thought of it.

“I think I’ll be ok, Craig. We’re not jumping in right away, just going to do some recon when we get there.”

“If I see crimson, I’m taking the shot.”

“Then you can’t possibly mind if I do the same.”

He looked immensely frustrated and she was tempted to ask him what was eating him, bracing herself for that conversation.

But a whistle called their attention and she saw Raul and Siri approaching from Novac’s gate. Shouldering the rifle, Juniper was about to wave at them when Boone stopped her, a hand on her arm.

“Six--”

“Juniper,” she corrected quietly, facing him. “Jun would be okay.” She kept her gaze direct as his frown deepened.

She hadn’t even noticed she had started bleeding again, a drip traveling down her hand and falling from her fingers onto the buffalo gourd leaves crushed beneath them. It was driving him to distraction and his grip on her tightened, anger still at the forefront. It was burning through him and directed at her, had been since he found the letter addressed to him.

“Juniper--”

“Jefa, we’re done packing but Siri wants to check you one last time before we go.”

Boone nearly growled as he dropped his hold. He turned and walked ahead of them, not bothering to speak to anyone further as they followed at a slower pace behind.

Siri watched the sniper with a pensive expression as she took the courier’s bleeding hand and Juniper finally noticed the blood. “Someone else should watch me change your dressings since I won’t be going with you.”

“Arcade can do it once he catches up with us,” the courier murmured as they all walked back.

“What about until then? What if something happens?”

Boone muttered unintelligibly ahead of them. Juniper’s second choice was traveling with Arcade and Raul protested before she could speak up. “Sorry jefa. No offense, but you’re the last woman I want to see shirtless.”

“What about you, Mr. Boone?”

Juniper felt herself burn with embarrassment and after a quick glance his way, she saw Boone's ears had turned nearly as red as his beret. She was about to protest, ready to offer Cass as a candidate when Siri spoke up again.

“Can I place her care in your hands?”

She was so busy staring at Siri with growing alarm that she crashed into him, hadn’t noticed Boone had stopped altogether. It was like running into a wall, he was so stiff and she fell back on her behind, obscenities escaping her at the landing.

Boone cursed as well, reaching down to pull her to her feet with a strong grip and placing a steadying hand on her hip as she righted herself. He let go once she was standing and turned his frown on Siri, penetrating stare boring into her.

She wished the ground would swallow her up. “You don’t--”

“Fine,” he bit it out at the same time. He looked conflicted, rubbing a hand over his head, the beret coming off momentarily before he slipped it on again with a resigned breath. Juniper wondered what was going on behind those shades of his as he looked at the medic. “I need to get something first.”

The three stared after him as he headed towards the bungalows in the opposite direction of his room. Raul had to finally nudge Juniper to follow along behind Siri, at a complete loss for words at what had just transpired.

Siri had turned on the lamp and was setting out bandages, antiseptic, gauze, ointment and tweezers, along with a candle that Juniper always flinched at whenever she saw the metal getting close to the flame.

Still feeling immensely embarrassed, the courier pulled off the poncho as she sat on the chair stiffly, her back to the door and the lamp.

“Why did you do that?” She finally asked.

“He’s worried about you,” Siri stated simply. “And frankly, I am too.”

“You’ve put him in a very uncomfortable position.”

“Which he agreed to of his own volition. I didn’t twist his arm.” Siri looked up at the courier, noting the nervousness on the courier’s face. “It will help him if he believes he can help take care of you.”

Juniper continued frowning in confusion and Siri finally took pity on her, elaborating as she touched the zipper of the vault suit, indicating she should begin pulling it down.

“Daisy mentioned his wife, told me she disappeared. Daisy thinks she’s dead and I think your sniper believes that, too. It makes sense, that he’d want to make sure the same doesn’t happen to you.”

Extremely uncomfortable with where the conversation was going with Siri of all people, Juniper was almost grateful when she heard the door open behind her, signaling the arrival of said sniper. With a silent sigh, she unzipped the vault suit enough to pull her right arm out, the splint making it harder to maneuver. She brushed short hair aside even though she didn’t need to, an old habit as she swallowed self-consciously at what her ravaged back must look like. She had never seen it, could only guess at the extent of it by the pain she felt from the back of her neck and down the curve towards her shoulder, traveling down the shoulder blade.

The courier hadn’t worn a bra or anything binding since she’d gotten hurt and she felt her nipples pebble as she bared them to clear the vault suit from the gauze wrappings. She folded her arms over herself protectively. Boone had bandaged her up before and she had seen more of him, more of his pain and his blood out in the desert than she could ever remember seeing of Benny in the intimacy of the dim lights of his room at the Tops. She trusted him. But it didn’t mean this whole ordeal wasn’t a whole new level of vulnerability she was exposing as Siri began revealing the wounds underneath the bandaging.

She had to give it to him, he remained silent as Siri showed him which areas needed the dressings cleaned and replaced if disturbed since the blisters had burst already. Then there were the other areas where the skin was patchy and where the bleeding had started sluggishly again. Stimpaks couldn’t regrow skin any better than they could limbs or any other major organ.  

She stopped listening, closing her eyes. Siri had a gentle touch, lighter than Arcade’s even and the sting of the antiseptic faded once she began applying the ointment the doctor had left behind. Juniper still hadn’t gotten a glimpse of her back and was constantly wondering.

As if reading her thoughts, Boone finally spoke up, catching her attention. “How’s it going, her recovery?”

“Her lower abdomen is nearly healed and as long as it isn't hit directly, it should be fine. The bruising just looks severe. The shallow cut from the machete is nothing more than scar tissue. But here…” Siri sighed heavily. “Some of its healing where the burns weren’t too bad. But there’s much that’s not looking good. She really shouldn’t be going.”

“I can’t expect the others to go without me, Siri.”

“She’s right. Stay here.”

“I _can’t._ Are you deaf?” She was harsh, on edge about this entire situation.

“But it makes no sense for you to escape only to head right to them again,” Siri protested.

“They’ll come for Novac next, Siri. Escaping will have been pointless if they’re not stopped.” She was tired of this, wished she could zip herself up quickly. She turned her head to glare at them both. “Are we done here? I need to change before we head out.”

Siri looked away but Boone didn’t for once, eyes narrowed. He wasn’t wearing his aviators, his gaze cutting into her in a way that made her insides clench.

“Fine.” His voice was cold once again and if she thought that was the end of it, she was wrong because he suddenly bent down to give her a hard look, voice low and threatening. “But I’m with you, no matter where you go - got it?”

He straightened and stalked out, a warning all unto himself. She felt sorry for whoever crossed him out there as she let out a held breath, heart racing as she frowned at his retreating back.

Siri merely shook her head as the courier stared after the sniper in confusion.

 

* * *

 

He handed her an NCR breastplate, the two-headed bear faded but the leather well maintained and completely whole. No bullet holes or indentations.

“Where’d you get this?” she wondered as she studied it. It was too small to be Ranger Andy’s.

“Don’t worry about it. Here.” He helped her pull the poncho open along the slit on one side, grabbed the plate and hooked it over one shoulder, careful around the splint. She let him do it, was trying to understand after she had seen him put away the medical supplies in his pack, remembering Siri’s words.

“Thanks.” She hesitated as his hands worked nimbly at the straps around her chest. “Listen, about the… uh…”

She felt him run his thumbs along the bottom edge of the armor, on her ribcage, making sure the breastplate fit snugly on her frame and she nearly shivered at the contact, at his light and sure touch. His eyes remained on what he was doing, sunglasses back on again but he still had that dark look on his face.

“Craig, about what I wrote...”

He turned that glare on her, tightening a strap to the point that it almost pinched. “Remember what I said.”

She quirked a brow at him, unsure. “Stick by you? Seems like I’m the last person you want to be around at the moment.”

His teeth were clenched, she could see by the way his jaw tightened and she felt her insides coiling again, mouth becoming dry in anticipation.

“You know you left the door wide open,” Cass drawled behind Boone.

Boone tugged her poncho over the piece of armor and finally stepped back, much to her loss.

Oddly annoyed at the interruption even as the tension leaked out of the moment, Juniper turned to address Cass. “Ready to go?”

“You’re serious about this?” Cass was leaning against the doorjamb, a small frown on her face as she regarded the courier.

“Deadly,” Juniper promised, entire body still wound up and she needed to focus it on something. Beside her, Boone huffed out a breath and shook his head.

The merchant gave her an appraising look, lips pursed, probably measuring the worth of her word. But she finally nodded, seemingly convinced. “Ready when you are. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

 

* * *

 

ED-E took a quick survey of Nelson from a wide perimeter, only able to cover the outskirts of the town up until the ledge dropped off near the guard tower facing the Colorado River. Any closer and he would give them away.

“What are you waiting for?” Ranger Milo wondered.

“More intel,” the courier snapped back, eyes on ED-E as he returned. They were standing by the checkpoint where they’d first met the NCR, the Ranger impatient to get his mission started even though she couldn’t understand his rush when he had already given up on the hostages. Either way, he had to wait for her, couldn’t afford to do anything else unless the NCR sent backup. Which they wouldn’t, if any of her dealings with them so far were any indication.

He said the grunts that had survived the takeover were too green to go in and reclaim the town. With the hostages crucified, they were even less eager to go and he couldn’t order them to, either way. The divide between the Rangers and the rest of the NCR army had always been bad, but it had gotten worse since the Battle of Hoover Dam and it didn’t seem clearer than in situations like these.

Milo walked away from her, heading back to the ridge until she stopped wasting his time. She was glad to see him go, would rather deal with the grunts who eyed her group nervously as they all huddled around the courier and her Pip-Boy. Juniper scrolled through the menu, looking for the correct map as ED-E beeped the info to her.

“What does he want?” Boone asked, having stayed within sighting if not listening distance from her.

“He wants us to do his dirty work,” she muttered with distaste. “The Legion’s got hostages up on some telephone poles in the middle of town.”

“To hell with mercy killing. We're getting those guys outta there.”

A little surprised at his outburst, the courier was nonetheless in agreement. “You heard the man. We take out the enemy before we untie them. There’s a _cortubenia_ out there. ED-E counted all nine and what looks to be a mongrel, most of them concentrated near the hostages and this area,” she tapped the screen where the gated power plant stood. It was near where a group of structures were clustered together, providing the most cover. “Since we’re approaching them from above, we can lob some dynamite in their direction, let the hill carry them the rest of the way down. We just have to bring them out first, and if I plant a few mines--”

“No. You’ll leave yourself too open.”

She gave Boone a look before turning back to the map, thinking of contingency one. “Raul, if I toss a grenade from here--”

“Let us handle this, boss. Cass needs to get closer with her shotgun, anyway,” Raul offered, holding a hand out for the grenades she had strapped to her belt.

“I’ll take the dynamite while you’re at it,” Cass added with a smirk and the courier handed all the explosives and her lighter forward with a small frown. She asked ED-E to cover them as Boone nudged her towards the ledge the ranger was perched on.

They got into position, the courier kneeling once again with the rifle on her right side, shoulder be damned. She needed her aim to be flawless with the others getting so close.

In a few short moments, she heard Raul’s magnum go off, the sound of the grenade exploding and shrapnel flying before she heard Boone’s “spotted!”. It was followed by the crack of his rifle next to her and the courier took aim and unloaded on three Legion recruits and one of the mongrels. A stick of sparkling dynamite took what remained of the beast and two other Legion that had just come within sight of her scope in a smoky explosion that rattled the remaining glass on the windows in the structures nearby.

She pulled her eyes away, changed weapons as she looked to where Boone had his weapon locked, shot after shot cracking in the air. ED-E’s warning tune was going off non-stop and Ranger Milo was yelling next to her about not following orders. She continued shooting, men in crimson falling in their wake. They wouldn’t get to Novac, she had promised Siri. She didn’t want to lie to her.

When all the enemies were down, she reloaded all weapons, keeping the magnum in hand as she crept down the ridge and down a separate lane to join the others in a quick sweep as she counted the heads, pulling caps, Legion coins and ammo free as she went along. She was too full of adrenaline to feel any pain.

She reached the end of the row of houses with no incident, climbed the steps to one of the bungalows silently. She would wait until one of the others joined her before checking inside, so she looked towards the center of town, where the soldiers were tied up on telephone poles.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, she saw Cass approaching slowly, heading towards a fallen NCR soldier. The courier had asked that all dog tags be removed so they could return them whenever they hit the next outpost. But as Cass got closer, she noticed a blinking light and was about to call out a warning before she noticed a stray mongrel crouching nearby, unaccounted for. Startled and wondering how many they had missed, she only had a split second to make a decision. She aimed at the same time that she called out a warning to the redhead, shooting towards the mine between the mongrel and Cass.

She was lucky because the mongrel leaped when she yelled and her bullet hit the mine in time to catch the poor beast and toss him back with a terrible yelp of pain.

Juniper didn’t have time to regret hurting the dog because a pair of hands wrapped around her mouth and throat and pulled her back so hard and fast, she felt herself choking as her windpipe was crushed.

She struggled immediately, turning the gun on her attacker but her arm was twisted by a third hand and she saw the light get blocked out as she was dragged inside the bungalow, door shut behind her attackers. She tried to bite the hand, reached for her knife with her bad arm, but a hand landed on her shoulder and squeezed and she screamed bloody murder, her head jerking back to collide with the head behind her painfully, the sharpness of tooth biting into her scalp.

The struggle didn’t last long, her knee was kicked out from under her with almost deadly accuracy. She was sure that it had nearly been broken as she rolled onto her side on the floor, moaning in agony. She heard the battle again outside, weapons going off and ED-E’s tune getting closer. Looking up she saw the distinctive headgear of the missing decanus she hadn’t seen earlier, darkened goggles hiding the face entirely.

“I’m surprised you’re here, profligate whore. But Vulpes warned me you might show up.” He stepped forward as she straightened up, standing quickly. He let her and she reached for her knife again, her only option. But it was three against her and they were all too close, the decanus reaching out once she was subdued and squeezing her shoulder once more. “He also told me where Caesar marked you.”

He let out a choked sound suddenly, a machete blade sticking out to point at her through his chest. It was pulled out again and the decanus fell, Cass giving the other two Legion soldiers a wicked smile before each of them jerked back with explosive force. Raul’s magnum broke one head apart as neatly as Boone did the chest of the other and Cass backed up so she didn’t get sprayed.

Juniper didn’t have that option, getting it from both sides and Cass scrunched her nose up, a smile still tugging at her lips. “You’re hair’s looking gross again and it’s only been a day. Hope you brought extra water with you.”

Boone didn’t give her a chance to respond, pulling her out of the bungalow forcefully and closing the door, leaving a bewildered looking Cass behind.

“What is wrong with you?” he growled, anger bright and evident.

“We miscalculated,” she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning her head forward on his chest in exhaustion. “There were two conturbenia, then?”

He stiffened at her touch and she wondered if she should pull away. His grip on her arm loosened but he didn’t let her go so she remained. Eventually, his chest rose and fell as he let out a deep breath, his other hand on her hip, fisting on her belt loop.

“You can’t die on me.”

She felt her chest tighten. “You know what you have to do, then.”

He didn’t respond so she said it for him, looking up at his shuttered expression, his tense shoulders. “You have to stay alive to make sure I don’t.”

She moved to back away, to help Ranger Milo free the NCR troopers down from the poles but Boone didn't let her go, pulled her closer instead. When he wrapped both arms around her hesitantly, she hugged him back and let herself sink into him. She was surprised when he did the same, his body pressed close and she ached for him to be closer, wished he kissed her the way he had before.

As if knowing where her thoughts were heading, when Cass opened the door behind them, she huffed, tone teasing. “I would say get a room but you're not good at closing doors, either. Starting to think you want me to catch you in the act.”

Boone didn't let go and Juniper added that to the list of other things she was grateful for that day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Concepcion.
> 
> IMPORTANT: My sincerest apologies to the readers; I'm putting this work on a momentary hiatus.
> 
> You deserve an explanation, of course.
> 
> After much internal debate, I've decided I need to step back. I lost someone recently and it has affected everything, including what goes into my writing. This work has suffered for it. I scrapped the last chapter as it didn't fit the overall feel of the story I want to tell and I have been struggling for the last couple of weeks. I recognize that.
> 
> I'm not abandoning this work. I plan on returning and will continue working on it as I get back to where I need to be. I just have to focus on some other things at the moment before I can tell it properly. Unfinished works are the absolute worst. I don't plan on this being one of them.
> 
> I cannot thank everyone enough for sticking by this. Fanfiction is a great distraction/escape/hobby/work of love and I am absolutely grateful for what it offers to writers and readers alike and hope to contribute once again soon.


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